Don't Ever Allow Life to Haunt You
by Mademoiselle Anime Amour
Summary: V Lawliet is not your average girl. She eats ice cream constantly, has issues regarding her pride, and one more thing. She's the sister of the famous L. How's that for being overshadowed? Rated T for obvious reasons. Matt/OC.
1. Memories

**A/N: Hello, everybody! Today was the glorious last day of school for me (though I have to take algebra semesters...:( ), so I present you with this story, as promised.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note, but I do own my OC V, who narrates this tale. It's kind of a fictional autobiography of sorts.**

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**Chapter 1: Memories**

Rays of faint sunshine touched the creaky wooden floor of my bedroom at Wammy's House, causing me to stir. My black eyes opened to take in this encouraging sight. Then, further joy seeped into my soul; my brother had planned on visiting here today. He rarely set foot in the place where he was raised, sadly, for he had moved out a year ago to mold himself into something great.

Determinedly, he had set his always high ambitions on becoming the world's greatest detective, the one who would enshroud himself in mystery with his single letter name

L, better known as the quietly doting older brother I had with me until age seven, when he moved away. I could recall that we both loved to indulge in sugary sweets, our only sustenance.

Normally, L and I refused to eat anything else, even when, at the age of three, I received a light lecture from Watari to partake in more nutritious foods.

"Victoria, I'm sure you don't want to dine on foods with artificial sugars, do you? There are delicious fruits, vegetables, meats, and grains to enjoy. Why won't you give them a chance?"

"Ice cream! That's all I want!" I had shouted in my childish lisp, stamping one foot.

My brother shuffled awkwardly into the room at that minute, as if he knew what had troubled me that day.

"I'm afraid there's no convincing my sister, Watari." He smiled ruefully at my indignation as he acted older than his then eleven years. "It appears as if she wishes to copy my pleasure for sugar. And since we are related, I'm afraid she will most likely inherit some of my other habits as well."

"I suppose you are indeed correct, L. Though must you set a terrible example for young Victoria?" Watari inquired, though his eyes glinted from amusement behind his spectacles.

L shrugged his slumped shoulders. "I sincerely apologize for that, of course."

I ran up to my brother, wrapping my small arms around him. "Hiya, big brother! Can I get some ice cream? Pretty please?"

"Well...I suppose I see no harm in that."

"You're the best!"

As the years went by in the orphanage, I ate my beloved ice cream (preferably chocolate) as much as L wolfed down his cake that was usually topped with luscious red strawberries. I also had taken to spending time with my two friends Mello and Matt, who hardly minded my company. In fact, they tolerated it perfectly.

Despite having two close friends at my disposal, it didn't take the emotional agony I felt in my sensitive heart when L deemed that he had reached the age to abandon Wammy's House.

"Hey, V, L's about to leave. I just thought I should tell you that," Matt told me gently on _that _day.

"Why does he have to go?!? Oh...sorry, Matt. I didn't mean to snap at you like that. I guess...I guess I should say goodbye."

Matt nodded at my response as his fingers padded the buttons of his handheld.

I rushed outside, where rain proceeded to fall softly on the asphalt pavement of the driveway. There, Watari's limo waited for its departure. L slouched near the back door, his pallid hands shoved into his jeans pockets casually, as if that day hardly contrasted from all the others. With shaky, trembling legs that felt like Yorkshire pudding, I urged myself to come to him.

"You do comprehend as to why I'm doing this, do you not, V?" he asked quietly, almost incoherently. And for good reason; his black eyes that matched mine spoke of reluctant misery, but also of a sense of duty.

"I—I think so. It's about justice, right?"

A delicate, minute smile graced my brother's lips before he patted the top of my disheveled head of shoulder-length raven hair.

"That's right. I will bring justice to the world by solving all sorts of cases. Maybe, you'll hear of me one day and make you proud."

"Of course, L. I will always support, no matter what." I grinned, revealing tiny baby teeth, as well as developing adult ones.

"V, I usually don't divulge my emotions, but...I will miss you. After all, I got accustomed to the way you picked up most of my habits. And now, your friends and I address you by the first letter of your name. You always were quite the imitator."

"Yeah, I suppose I always will be, big brother!"

Giggling after my answer, as all typical seven-year-olds do, I embraced L one last time; not accustomed to such affectionate gestures, his entire body tensed before wrapping one arm around me in a brotherly manner. The rain fell more rapidly than ever, soaking us both, which reminded me that this was the last time I would see my cherished brother for a very extensive period of time. This made me profoundly sorrowful and upset. Tears suddenly glowed at the corners of my eyes, and I found myself trembling to suppress anguished sobs within me. L sensed this, for his arm gripped my abdomen even tighter to show his sibling love.

"Y—you're th—the only f—family I—I have, L," I stuttered in a weak whimper to explain my abrupt tears. I felt his chest heave with a sorrowful sigh as he deliberately released me from his one-armed embrace.

"I know that, Victoria. But, I will contact you often, I promise. I simply feel that justice needs to be done, and I can use my deductive skills to aid in the cause. Do you fully understand that?"

Gulping down yet another sob, I whispered, "Yes. But, I'll miss you."

L only bestowed me one more reassuring smile before pulling the car door handle; the sound of that door opening echoed excruciatingly in my ears.

I shivered in my damp yellow T-shirt and my oversized denim jumper over it as freezing droplets of rain trickled down the nape of my neck. Why did it insist on raining that fateful day? The weather mocked my pain at having to say goodbye to my sweet brother L. It took all the courage I had just to shout, "Bye!" upon his entrance in the vehicle. To add to my cheerful façade, I waved one tiny hand consistently. L smiled yet again as he started at my forlorn form out his window; afterwards, I watched his lips to move to inform Watari that he was ready. The limo soon purred like a kitten as our guardian proceeded to turn the keys in the ignition.

As soon as the vehicle maneuvered toward the pair of open silver gates, I snapped; I could no longer continue my ruse of bliss.

"Wait for me! Big brother, take me with you! Please! Why can't I go, too?!?" I wept as I vainly chased after Watari's limo, praying that it would pause, so that a door would allow me entrance.

Sadly, no such thing happened.

My diminutive legs could not reach my desired destination. Soon, the shiny black limo drove through the silver gates, those unforgiving metal contraptions. Just as I attempted eluding Wammy's House, those cold gates slammed shut.

"No...No! NO!"

Collapsing hard on my knees, the tears that had managed to only shiver in my ebony eyes before slid down my face. And the unsympathetic shower still persisted. I don't know how long I sat crying before warm, comforting arms grabbed me from behind. Emitting a terrified squeal, I turned sharply to face the child who did this.

Matt.

"M—Matt, wh—why are y—you hugging m—me?" I inquired as my sobs gradually died down.

He blushed, which caused his face to look as red as his messy mop of hair. "I know I never go outside that much, but you were crying. You'll catch a cold, you know."

I nodded as a faint smile appeared on my lips. "Thanks."

Matt raised an eyebrow in confusion, though managed to help me stand up after he offered his hand to me. Even though I was merely seven at the time, I sensed then that that warm yet clammy touch felt right. Together, we trudged through the pouring rain and back to Wammy's House, where an odd event had taken place.

In the den that included a toasty fireplace that aided in dispelling chill caused by merely staring at the windows that day, Near worked on a puzzle that lay on one of the tables. Even if the albino child meant well, I didn't really care for him. There was just something about him I could scarcely grasp, and it definitely disconcerted me. It also didn't help that he possessed the same blank black eyes that my brother and I shared.

A plate of cookies sat next to the puzzle that Near currently constructed so deliberately, but these were quickly being devoured by none other than Mello. I _did _like Mello's spirit and ardor, though when it came to Near, it seemed positively ridiculous. For, the blond chocolate lover thoroughly disliked him, even declaring him an arch-nemesis. And to think, Mello only surpassed his loathed enemy by a year. I shuddered to think what would become of this rivalry when they grew older.

"You don't deserve these cookies, Near!" Mello grumbled through a mouthful. "I do!"

Shaking his head his best friend's way, Matt decided to intervene.

"I know that you don't like him, but go easy on him, will you, Mello?" he implored while still enraptured with his latest handheld video game. I always believed that Matt preferred to escape reality by landing himself in the interesting virtual world of gaming. It served as his sinful obsession, whereas ice cream served as mine.

In the mean time, Mello paid no heed to his friend's entreaty. "He's not even eating the stupid cookies! See?"

As if to disprove his point, Near reached out to obtain the last cookie, but Mello wouldn't let that happen; he slapped Near's hand, which the owner retracted almost robotically.

I shoved my hands in my denim jumper, somewhat displeased at this scene that had lain out before me. Sometimes, I wondered if Near did receive the treatment he actually deserved. I doubted that he cared, though, for he proceeded to build his thousand-piece puzzle as if nothing had happened.

Mello pouted and heaved a huffy sigh, which caused an unruly strand of his blond hair to drift upward before landing back on his forehead.

"Near is never any fun!" he complained as if the eerie child was out of the room. "He always ruins it, of course!"

"Well, we can play my latest console video game," Matt suggested one he replaced his green handheld in his pants pocket.

He looked toward me to listen to my opinion; his green eyes that I could barely see behind his goggles appeared genuinely interested to hear it.

"Sure, I bet it makes for fantastic gameplay," I replied in my normal, eloquent phrasing.

Matt grinned eagerly and raced upstairs before Mello or I could think twice.

"Hey, wait for me!"

Running after Mello after he shouted this, I permitted a smile to come to my lips.

Even though my dearest brother L had departed from Wammy's House, I realized I still had my two best friends to cherish. No possible way could exist to wreak misery upon my spirit, as long as I had them by my side. Surely, they would cause me to be devoid of complete and utter loneliness. These memories that filled my mind as I gazed out the dirty, smudged window couldn't have come at a more appropriate time. Now, a little more than a year later had passed, and today marked my eighth birthday. Better than that, L had contacted me via my computer the night before to inform me of the aforementioned visit. I had barely gotten over my excitement, however, before he told me of another reason.

He wished to discuss an important matter with me that would come into play later on.

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**A/N: I hope you guys review to tell me what you thought of this first chapter. This fic is very near and dear to my heart, more so as I wrote it. I'm currently working on chapter five on Word. Chapter two will be up Sunday or Monday, depends if you guys liked. Little thing I noticed: Microsoft Word just hates it when you type Near's name. Spell Check chastises me every time!**

**Oh, and for those of you who are in break, I hope all of you enjoy your summers! XD**


	2. Lineage

**A/N: WOOOOOOOOO, YOU GUYS LIKED IT! YOU REALLY LIKED IT! Excitement aside, I am happy that you guys are liking this story and the writing style of it. I actually felt rather hypercritical on chapter one, but due to DEALTHY's success, I have posted chapter two earlier than what I had said. So, thanks guys! Your reviews really meant a lot.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note. And, actually, SOME of the ice cream in the world belongs to two guys named Ben and Jerry, not me.**

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**Chapter 2: Lineage**

Stretching my limbs briefly, I turned away from my window to begin dressing, ecstatic about my birthday. After all, what child wouldn't be? My gaze drifted toward the wardrobe, which held multiple hooded sweatshirts that went with a typical outfit. But, what made them odd was that they were all the color navy, my personal favorite color. Gone were the faded yellow T-shirt that I now found revolting and the jumper that had too many patches to count. Things can change within a year, even opinions on attire.

Really, though, I hadn't a care for my outward appearance, unlike the other little girls my age. So, I donned my sweatshirt, pair of jeans, and a T-shirt with little to no thought process involved.

Just like my brother, who threw on a white shirt and jeans every day; I was increasingly becoming more like him. Perhaps we Lawliets do think alike, much rather like great minds do. Then again, we did have the highest IQs out of all the residents at Wammy's, so that expression proved true in our cases.

As soon as I pulled my sweatshirt over my head, I apathetically ran a brush through my hair, which I honestly had no anxiety over. Maybe I wasn't the average girl, but I could hardly control my fate as to my abnormal upbringing. My parents died in a tragic car accident six months after my birth, winding me and L up at the orphanage. Luckily, Watari had been notified of our situation and walked up to our doorstep two weeks later. The rest, as they say, is history.

When I reflect on what L had to go through prior to Watari sort of "rescuing" us, I feel so much compassion toward him. He had to figure out how to raise me for a fortnight at age eight, and I was merely a baby who could barely utter a complete, intelligent sentence. Most kids at his age at the time can't say that; they're the fortunate ones. But, currently, I am getting too far ahead of myself when it comes to narrating this tale—I plan to return to my task.

I took an approximately thirty-second gaze in my cracked mirror before practically flying down the stairs to meet Matt and Mello for breakfast. At Wammy's House, each ordinary event was meticulously scheduled. Breakfast began at eight o'clock sharp, first class started at eight forty-five, second class started an hour later, etc. As future successors to my brother, we had to mature in a strict environment or we would stray from our paths. And that was something Roger, the caretaker of the orphanage, could not risk.

Arriving at the cafeteria in a timely fashion, I let my ebony eyes seek for my two friends. Sure enough, they sat at our usual table, which we had all to ourselves. Despite the several cliques and alliances formed here, we were considered the outcasts, not counting Near who liked his life as a loner. The reason why Matt, Mello, and I relied only on each other was obvious: Matt was too shy, Mello too rowdy and bold, and I was L's sister, the current envy of the orphanage. Instead of appreciating me for having the Lawliet blood flow through my veins, the other children rejected me due to that—L supposedly found me as his favorite.

My peers' behavior toward me, I admit, was questionable, considering that they worshipped the ground my brother walked on. No matter, I dismissed them as being hypocrites. Maybe my sense of pride came off as too severe.

I seated myself across from my two friends, a small knowing smile gracing my lips; Matt and Mello had yet to discover my secret.

"I think today will be a great one," I told them in my quietly confident tone, inwardly thrilled at the prospect of receiving a birthday visit from L.

In the mean time, my friends looked rather befuddled, their shining orbs clouding over with deep thought. Tapping my fingers patiently on the artificial wood of the table, I meandered into a realm of daydreams. I knew that Mello and Matt had probably forgotten my birthday again, so I had no worries. I didn't expect them to memorize that date anyway, since I found it...well...unimportant.

One of the cafeteria workers broke the silence by setting bowls of ghastly pale, mushy mass before our respective places. As soon as she retreated to the kitchen to distribute more of the unidentifiable substance to the other orphans, Mello groaned.

"Oatmeal again? This is the fourth day in a row we've had this crap!"

"At least we're being fed," Matt responded in his ever smart-alecky way. Really, he behaved like this, what with the tossing of sardonic comments, in order to cheer us. And, usually, his sarcasm proved to be to our benefit when it came to overall happiness.

"Whatever," Mello snarled, his upper lip curling slightly like a vicious dog's.

Testy as he was over the disappointing breakfast, he grabbed a fistful of that vile, flavorless oatmeal and hurled it at the nearest child's head. The male victim in question cried out angrily before swiveling his head Mello's way; Matt and I politely tried to suppress our laughter. For some reason, witnessing an unhappy person protest the meager rations of the orphanage amused me. Maybe this was because the food honestly tasted revolting.

"That's a good birthday present isn't it, V?" Matt hissed in my ear before returning to his task of attempting to swallow his portion of oatmeal.

My eyes dilated with obvious surprise; he actually remembered my birthday today.

Noting that he had just missed out on another trivial event, Mello averted his previous attention that he had wasted laughing at the boy back to us.

"Is it your birthday today?" he asked for confirmation.

"Yes," I replied, demure as always, wrinkling my nose when I put some oatmeal through my lips. "I'm eight years old today."

"Sorry I forgot," he muttered gruffly as he shoved his bowl to the side.

"It's all right. It's not that important anyway."

"You're kidding, right?" Matt peered intensely through his goggles at me. "Aren't we kids supposed to look forward to our birthdays?"

"If you haven't realized this yet, Matt, we're far from ordinary," I responded in my cool, collected manner that I had adapted since L left. I truly was becoming more like him every day.

The three of us fell silent once more, struggling to eat more of our most important meals of the day. Ha, what a joke! My friends knew as well as I did that oatmeal in itself is less than perfect. An idea bubbled in the peripherals of my mind as I continued to observe the displeasure Mello and Matt showed. This plot served as rather devious in a mischievous way, but I saw no other way around it. We would either do this or suffer from the monster that would haunt us called indigestion.

"Let's go to my room—I have better food up there," I told my friends, promptly standing to my feet and wearing a determined expression. They agreed.

Like sneaky thieves, we made ourselves scarce from the mess hall without any supervisor suspecting our disappearance. The good thing about Wammy's was that we children were very poorly supervised. This enabled us to do as we pleased without any adult getting a word in edgewise. So, if we ate sugary foods high in trans fat for breakfast, they would remain blissfully unaware. We tiptoed in the most circumspect manner up the infamously creaky stairs; we could scarcely risk having one of the adults nab us.

Safely, we entered my bedroom without any incident, much to our relief. In fact, Mello couldn't say it any better when he told us, "I've already been in trouble five times this week. So, it's a good thing I didn't get caught doing this."

"Why would you say that? I mean, you're always in trouble, Mello," Matt said rather realistically, which deterred the blond somewhat.

While they started bickering when Mello retaliated with a "But you're the innocent one!" I procured a bag of miniature chocolate chip cookies. Once they glimpsed the blue wrapping, the boys unintentionally let their jaws drop open.

"That's definitely better than oatmeal!" Mello exclaimed as he practically pounced on the bag the minute I opened it.

"Nice job snitching these, V," Matt congratulated and gave me a high-five.

The bell for first class tolled once the last cookie crumb had been devoured, and we promptly went to our respective classes. I had chorus, which offered me a chance to hone my singing ability. Singing had been my passion since age two, according to my brother. I even could boast of having a four octave range that enabled me to sing even the toughest ballad. With this in mind, the caretaker of Wammy's House selected chorus as one of my classes when I turned four; I was supposedly that gifted at what I did. However, I am a harsh critic of myself, so I often chided myself whenever I assumed I hit a high note terribly.

Today, once I took a seat in the back of the classroom where I remained perpetually non-existent to my disdainful peers, the teacher took out her teachers' guidebook.

"OK, class, today we are going to sing 'Auld Lang Syne.' Now, I drew a name out of my basket to see who will lead us..."

The instructor primly allowed a moment's silence in which all the students waited with bated breath, whereas I slouched even further down in my seat. Instinct told me this would not bode well.

Finally, the teacher broke the tension by announcing in her sweet, angelic voice, "V, I suppose you won't mind starting us off, will you?"

Sensing twenty pairs of hateful eyes glaring mercilessly at me, I muttered softly, "I suppose not, Miss Ferguson."

As luck would have it, though, I was spared from any further torture when the door abruptly opened. All of us craned our necks to see this visitor, eagerly wondering whether he would acknowledge us or not.

When a certain raven-haired young man entered, everyone gasped with awe, and I could barely suppress a smile.

L had come!

"Miss Ferguson, I am sorry to interrupt this class, but,"—his eyes rested briefly, barely a millisecond, on me—"may I talk to V privately?"

When Miss Ferguson gave her consent, considering the fact that _the _L was courteously asking her permission, I sensed more heated gazes. These didn't bother me now that L had arrived; my misery slipped away. Together, we walked outside the classroom, where the door to it closed after our departure. I smiled genuinely, joyful to share the same corridor with my brother once again. It had felt as though decades passed since the day he moved out of Wammy's.

"So, L, how have you been?" I inquired, my dark eyes glowing with intrigue. "Is being the world's greatest detective everything you thought it would be?"

"Yes," he returned my smile slightly, "I have solved several cases on the side of weeks."

My pride for L could have burst, for its immensity astounded me. I knew that he would utilize his deduction skills for the greater good, especially considering his own purity.

Pleased with this news, I replied, "That's very impressive, big brother. I wish I could be as smart as you."

"You shouldn't complain; your IQ is 185, after all. Happy birthday, by the way." He slacked his stride to expose something he had concealed behind his back. I nearly had to suppress a grin when I was presented with a pint of Ben and Jerry's ice cream.

Glancing about the corridor to check if all the classroom doors had been securely closed, L explained quietly, "I am highly aware that you like ice cream, so I bought you this on my way here. Dies the mint chocolate chip flavor suffice?"

"More than enough—thanks."

Promptly taking my spoon out from its place in my shirt pocket, I opened the pint and shoveled into my esteemed dessert without a second thought. I allowed the delicious mint flavor to entice my tongue, and nothing coincided with this better than chocolate chips. Suddenly, I thought I could go to Heaven just by eating this confection, considering how saccharine the treat was. I contently sighed, aware of possessing the best birthday gift ever. My abrupt joy, however, vanished once I espied a grave expression on my brother's face. I wondered what his true objective was by coming here.

So, inevitably, I resolved to inform him of my light suspicions. "I have a feeling you came here for something more than just to visit me. Am I right to think this?"

"You are indeed, V," L sighed almost wearily and no wonder. The ever present bags under his onyx eyes had grown considerably larger since last time. Obvious determination at being the best that he could be in his career field took a toll on him, despite him never having slept a wink in his life. I often wondered how he could survive torturing himself like that.

Noting my concerned gaze, he added, "It's nothing too serious, but Watari informed me a while back that I have to choose successors. In the event that I die, one of them has to take my place, as well as my name. My job is becoming increasingly dangerous."

Awestruck by what he told me, I couldn't help but think that L was being rather contradictory by dismissing choosing successors as "nothing too serious." If I was as emotional as Mello, I would have stressed out and demanded answers. However, I placated my anxieties enough to say calmly, "Tell me about these successors."

"I will. Let's sit down," L stated just as calmly in his monotone voice when he gathered his knees close to him as a way of sitting. I situated myself opposite him, though I crossed my legs before doing this similar action. Appraising me to ensure that he had my undivided, rapt attention, he began his story.

"At first, I was rather taken aback by what Watari told me. Then, I realized he had a point in what he said, so I followed along with it. He suggested the orphans in this very home would serve as successors. After making sure that my memory still served me well, I figured out the lineage I wanted in the exact order. You must promise me that what I say from here on out will be kept a secret."

I bowed my head to signal my assent, as well as respect for him. "All right, I won't tell anyone. You have my word as a sister."

He nodded before continuing, "Here is what I believe. Near should be my immediate successor, considering his calculating manner. He is a worthy genius and must not be forgotten. Mello would be after him, followed by Matt. Hopefully, I will act as L for a long time."

Remaining silent, I picked the dirt from my fingernails, which were jagged from habitual nibbling. Where did I fall into all this? I, too, was an orphan who resided in Wammy's House, after all.

My gaze pierced L's when I inquired very softly, "What number am I, L?"

He almost moved his eyes away from mine, but quickly responded with, "Twenty."

Nervously, I stuffed my hands into my shirt pockets to abate the sudden trembling that occurred. Number twenty? I found that difficult to discern; this sense of inferiority overwhelmed me. Pondering over why my number in the lineage was so high, I returned to my ice cream to take rather unnecessarily large bites. Had I done something to displease L?

Now, taking into account of my age at the time, I can see why I inwardly panicked, an emotional action I rarely considered enacting. The idea of unintentionally shoving myself from my brother's favor terrorized me. It served as a claw that squeezed my heart overzealously tight. I just couldn't bear it.

"Why am I number twenty?" I found myself raising my voice. "Have I done something wrong? You should know better than anyone I'm highly capable of what you're doing! I—I'm your only family, L, so why—?"

He urgently pressed two fingers to my lips to quiet me before I went totally haywire with my impending, full-fledged rant. "V, please understand this. It is _because _you're my only family that you are number twenty. As a brother, as well as a detective who defends the law, I absolutely cannot put my own sister's life at risk. You need to live a long, healthy life with hardly any cares. I know that you are vastly intelligent—more than qualified and live up to standards—but I can't sacrifice you."

I was torn between relief and disappointment at his words. If we had switched places, I would have most likely done the same for L. On the other hand, I wanted something to live for; to be the entity representing justice would be thrilling. Still, I knew my brother loved me as only siblings could, so I submitted, "I understand, L."

I almost thought a relieved smile appeared on his face when he said, "Good, that is all I needed to know."

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**A/N: I never thought I would ever write that much of a portion about oatmeal. XP But, it was used for comedic tendencies, so why not? And it seems L is a bit overprotective over his sister and rightfully so. But, hmmm...I don't think we will be hearing the last of V being connected to cases by a long shot (hint, hint). Well, I, sadly enough, have two other stories on my plate. But, it's summer, so this one should be updated more frequently. **


	3. Friendship

**A/N: Hey, what's up, everybody? I love putting up this story so much, I put one of my other ones on temp hiatus. Because, admittedly, I do get a little torn when it comes to these things. I am a writer who's devoted to the fans and means it when she says it...unlike certain celebrities. Oh, and one more thing: this story won't be updated until Tuesday or Wednesday. I feel I got to type more chapters in this, so I don't run out. And, I got another story, and, AH WORK OVERLOAD! But, I should be OK. XD**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Death Note, only V/Victoria Lawliet. But, V is better, because V is an awesome name (am I right V for Vendetta fans?).**

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**Chapter 3: Friendship**

Regretfully, the day of my eighth year was the last time I saw L for years. With a quickly uttered promise to contact me, he said his farewell and into Watari's limo he went. I watched forlornly from the lobby window, but shed no tears; I felt that I had outgrown them. Besides, the sun shining brightly that day served as a positive omen, a sign that perhaps life would improve. Having that in mind, I held optimism deeply in my heart once I noticed that the glistening black limo glided past the gates. My brother, I knew, would find success in life as would I. I could at least have some peace in that.

Ensuring to follow through on my oath to L, I never revealed the secret of the lineage to either Mello or Matt. As much as I yearned to tell them, I would always assume that Mello especially would grudge Near for taking his spot. Really, the blond was having enough trouble as it was being number two out of all of us at Wammy's. No matter how often Matt and I tried to assure him that we hardly cared about his rank, he wouldn't listen. His already foul attitude toward life had darkened along with his choice of clothing.

Luckily, he still stood steadfastly by us, as only loyal friends can.

In fact, Mello came through for me during a particular recess during which I perched on the front steps in my odd fashion—one leg close to me, the other one stretched out. Hungrily, I absorbed every detail of the book I grasped in my hands; it told of what to look for in a liar. For, yes, my interests piqued for psychology, taking into account it could serve as a major impact for my future. Obviously, though, gruff boys don't care about knowledge.

A group of six hulking adolescents gathered around me as I carefully turned a page.

Before I could register what would happen, the book was rudely knocked out of my hands. I looked up to give the boys a hostile glare devoid of eyebrows, which only proved even more that I looked like a female version of my brother.

One of the bullies guffawed at my silent but deadly expression. "What's the matter, V? Don't like us picking on you? Humph, it's too bad your brother isn't here!"

"Be quiet," I murmured in my deathly calm.

"That's all you can say? Aw, poor V—her famous brother doesn't have time for her!"

Aware that the ringleader of this foolish circus of buffoons was waging psychological warfare on me, I still remained entirely emotionless. I wasn't about to permit these boys to glimpse my tears. That would hardly work any more, not on me. I apathetically placed my hands on top of my kneecaps until one of the idiots slapped me across the face.

Barely wincing, I merely uttered, "Ouch."

"Want some more?!?" the boy who struck me challenged, his eyes aflame with fury, probably at the fact I kept my placidity intact.

I stood up, picked up my abandoned book, and set it aside on the porch, all the while plotting my next objective. My endless dark eyes never left my enemies' the whole time. They merely ogled me stupidly, wondering what I would do.

Good, that was just the overall reaction I wanted.

"Boys, you underestimate me," I spoke in my older, wiser, and ten-year-old voice. "My brother ensured to teach me a certain fighting technique before he left."

"Oh? Well, show us!"

The leader's words became minced when I landed a high kick right on his stomach, causing him to stumble backwards. His lackeys looked on, noticeably stunned. Satisfied with this result, I decided to resume reading as though nothing had happened between me and them. I thought how pathetic it was that they would dare to fight a lone girl whom they clearly outnumbered.

Unfortunately, these delinquents were dirty fighters.

Incensed from having a mere girl kick him, the leader slapped the book away from my hands again. This somewhat bothered me.

"Are you really that stupid?" I inquired, titling my head to the side. "What have I ever done to all of you that would compel you to act this way?"

"You exist!" the boy snapped and proceeded to punch me in the head.

"Nice comeback," I softly quipped. "Surely, you can find a better excuse than that."

I was prepared to battle again before a welcome face intruded on the scene.

"You leave her alone, you idiots! What the hell's your problem anyway?!?" an extremely infuriated Mello roared as he sprinted right toward my oppressors.

"Mello?!? Oh...uh...see, we were just playing with her, that's all." One of them grinned idiotically, putting on an innocent act. Even though most of them were a fair three years older than him, the boys knew better than to trifle with Mello. In fact, he seemed completely enraged; nothing could soothe him in his savage, beastly state. He pummeled those teenagers to the ground, despite them being double his size. I watched, purely amazed at how threatening Mello could act within a blink of an eye.

Groaning pitifully from the injuries they had accumulated, the bullies slowly backed away from the stoop, where I stood to my full height. Once doing so, I kept in mind that they ran away from me, their "fun" activity of taunting me forgotten permanently.

"I could have taken them on, you know," I told Mello, who panted while regaining his breath. He merely smirked mirthlessly at me.

"You could have, but you wouldn't have lasted long."

"True, but don't you realize you'll get in trouble for this?"

Shrugging, he conveyed to me that he could honestly care less about his fate; after all, his childhood innocence had vanished too soon, tainted with the poison of a bitter life. I sympathized with him, remembering his long angry, venomous rants each time he came out as the loser by a slim margin. All of us at Wammy's hated to lose, especially Mello. And, even as I saw Roger lead him to the main office two minutes later, I knew that he still had some benevolence tucked away.

Despite his increasingly worse reputation as the resident bad boy, he maintained the loyalty to his friends. He would stick up for Matt and me in any situation that came our way. For, honestly, that was the type of person Mello could be whenever he felt like it; we as his best friends respected that. The other children could never truly comprehend how much he had to go through in his life—maybe not even us. As long as he stayed with us to the end, though, we would be fine, simple as that.

Matt, on the other hand, contrasted with Mello entirely personality-wise. He preferred to not pick fights with the other children and liked to keep to himself. The only way I managed to befriend him as a toddler had come in the form of me finding a lost game cartridge. From then on, we became best friends because of that simple trinket. Despite his refusal of associating with others apart from us, Matt showed a mostly concealed outgoing side to Mello and me. He reveled in cracking sardonic jokes, earning an occasional smirk or smile. I used to tell my redheaded friend that he should attempt befriending the rest of the orphans, but his response was always the same: a flat "no."

Maybe he never rested enough faith upon himself or perhaps he abhorred putting forth the effort; I'll never know for sure. Truthfully, Matt as a child was ever the sloth-like individual. He focused on video games most of the time, rarely losing a level on any of them that he owned. However, one of these infrequent times occurred when we were both twelve, which served as a landmark age for him—he tried his first cigarette. He had this plan to smoke constantly when he reached the age of fourteen; confidentially, he informed me by saying he couldn't risk Roger catching him in the act.

But, my mind has wandered, so that I am compelled to tell this story involving me and him. Bored on a languid Saturday afternoon (no classes), I paced back and forth in the common room, sparing glances at the blissful children playing kickball outside. I recall often desiring to play this sport, though knew that the consequences of actually going with my want would torment me.

As I have mentioned, I wasn't popular nor did any of the kids wish to have anything to do with me. They loathed me, which disheartened me slightly.

Consistently, I told myself, "If only my IQ had been a few points lower or my pride would be easy to swallow, I wouldn't be such a dismal failure at making friends."

I merely thought my problems had something to do with the complicated facets of me. If I changed myself, I assumed, people would tolerate me or at least learn to. But, I was aware that no matter how hard I could try, I couldn't pull it off.

Some child whose name began with a _K _kicked the rubber ball out of the field, which made his teammates erupt into cheers. The sun shone brightly upon him as he sprinted from base to base, surely causing his victory to taste all the sweeter. I tapped my fingers against the window and heaved a melancholy sigh. No one had ever encouraged me apart from my brother. But, I knew he was incredibly busy with his life's work now, his dream that he had managed to realize. I felt so alone at that moment.

"Hey, V," I heard Matt say as though he was on the verge of a suggestion, "do you want to play my video games with me?"

Alleviated from my oncoming misery, I turned toward him. He was lounging on the battered old sofa while eating potato chips; despite his snacking, he looked bored. Then again, nothing ever seemed to cure Matt's boredom except video games.

A smile almost overwhelmed my lips when I murmured, "All right, I would love to."

His whole face lit up optimistically once I bestowed my assent to him; oddly enough, I seemed to compel him to smile more than Mello could. Well, almost—Mello pulled often (and I regret to admit this) funny stunts.

Matt rolled off the sofa and onto the floor, lazy as he was. Motioning me to follow him, he raced up the stairs eagerly to his room, where four consoles lay in wait. He turned on the television before assessing his foot-high stack of video games; analytically, he pondered over which one to choose. I was, fortunately, a patient person, so I perched gingerly on his bed, my eyes glowing with barely hidden excitement. I enjoyed spending time with my friends, whom I cherished above all else (apart from L, of course, considering he served as my only family).

Drifting into my fantasy world, I scarcely took notice that Matt had popped a CD into one of his consoles until he tapped my hand.

"Are you going to play or are you just going to fall asleep on me?" he joked light-heartedly as he offered me a controller.

"I assure you, I'm awake. I merely have the bad habit of spacing out," I replied as wittily.

We faced each other in virtual combat by playing a mindless fighting game. I could distinguish the line between fiction and reality, though, so the blood that spilled from the characters didn't frighten me. Most girls would have run away to cower and sob as though traumatized. However, I differed from all the other girls in the orphanage, simply due to my willingness to try new things. Pressing certain buttons as quickly as I could, I forced my character to strike Matt's with a flaming sword. He pressed the buttons on his controller feverishly, attempting to get his character to retaliate.

Gaining the upper hand, he smirked with self-satisfaction at his gift to play video games at superhuman speed. No one could ever equal his virtual victories.

But, to our surprise, I realized that I had killed his character with a medieval ball-and-chain weapon. Stunned, I dropped my controller upon seeing the word "winner" flash on my portion of the screen.

"Wow, V," Matt whispered, his mouth falling open. "You actually beat me."

He sounded incredulous when he said this—so much so, that I jumped to conclusions by wondering if he was enraged toward me. After all, since he immersed himself in gaming, he treated playing as though he was in the actual game.

My worries were put to rest when he flashed a pearly white grin at me. "Good job! Not even Mello can beat me at this game. You got some real skills."

I blushed from the compliment, though only a light pink tinge touched my face. "Thank you, I'm not used to receiving such high praise from the master."

Pretending to possess humility, Matt exclaimed, "Really? You think I'm that good?!? Well, V, I don't know what to say."

"Don't get too cocky, Matt. You might get beaten again."

When he gave me a bewildered stare, I laughed for the first time in three years.

My friends truly are valuable to me, more so than all the riches on this earth.

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**A/N: V kicked some serious arse in this chapter, didn't she? Well, I was determined when originally writing this that she wouldn't be a defenseless Mary Sue. No, she was gonna learn the capoiera (I think that's how it's spelled) and use it whenever necessary. Another little fact: V's birthday is June 12th, 1990. And I hope you guys don't mind some tweaking on both the timelines of the manga and anime. I wasn't aware of them until too late. I was obsessing over V being around the same age as her best friends, as well as having not too big of an age difference between her and L. So, sorry about that. Anyway, review! Review like the wind!**


	4. Departure

**A/N: Hi again! Well, algebra semesters weren't that hard, and I'm bored enough to update. This chapter is pretty big, but it IS a pivotal one in the story.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note. I also don't own the song mentioned, which belongs to The Beatles, by the way.**

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**Chapter 4: Departure**

Seven years passed rather quickly, as though I saw with my own eyes my life rushing past. And whenever I thought about how strange it seemed that I barely remembered maturing, I could scarcely catch my breath. I always despised how, even when I tried to so much as pause time, I still managed to miss something.

Isn't it weird, what that can do to a person?

Most certainly, I know that pondering over the immortality of time can awe to the point of sorrow. If I ever admitted fearing anything in the world, time would serve as that bone-chilling phobia. It felt like a curse to me, something of which I couldn't dispel.

Over these seven years, I simply changed—at least physically. I grew two inches to five foot four, my bags under my eyes became significantly darker, and my hair became longer. On the inside, I still remained my same quiet, not outgoing self. To be honest, I preferred to keep it that way, considering the loathing I received from my fellow peers. They still hadn't recovered from the fact that I was L's younger sister, especially since he managed to send me birthday gifts each year. I had insisted that I hardly needed any possessions, but he, generous as he was, refused. In fact, on my fourteenth birthday, I received a baby grand piano. I sympathized profoundly with the delivery men who had to haul it up the stairs to my room.

Speaking of music, I had dropped chorus from my class schedule that same year, much to the delight of my former classmates and to the sorrow of Miss Ferguson. I still sang, though away from others, even Mello and Matt. My two friends had never truly witnessed my talent due to my modesty. Besides, what if they turned into harsh critics?

They had already changed too, more drastically than I had. Mello became even more bitter, wrathful toward this cruel, unforgiving world; his aura seethed hatred for Near, who (as he saw it) always managed to defeat him. The chocolate eating blond wore black constantly now and picked on the other orphans more than ever. Admittedly, his cynical attitude often chilled me to the bone with its bleak effect. He proved himself faithful, though, and neither tormented Matt nor me. Both of us thanked our lucky stars for that gilded trait to still glisten, even as Mello's frustration expanded.

Matt, on the other hand, was a laid-back sort of fellow as always, as well as an excessive chain smoker. Due to my sensitive nose, I tended to avoid his room; I couldn't stand the atrocious scent of cigarettes that permeated the area. But, this hardly stopped me from spending quality time with him, playing his video games that I had never won again. Unfortunately, he often distracted me because of his increasingly handsome appearance. Like my brother L, I despised wearing my heart on my sleeve, so I stifled my idiotic, hormonal affections to prevent emotional agony. The day I would fall in love with Matt would never happen, I assured myself. I would rather avoid love altogether.

Meanwhile, whenever we took exams at Wammy's, I excelled in psychology (the class I took in place of chorus), English, and history. Out of all the orphans, I scored fifth overall in test scores with Near, of course, at the top of the list. Poor Mello would, as aforementioned, wind up in second place and promptly stomp off to his dormitory to fume. I pitied him, though he would kill me if I ever told him. While looking at my test results one day, just weeks after my seventeenth birthday, I contemplated as to what to do with my life. Aware that I reached an age in which to move out, I found that I wished to metaphorically fly the coop. All young people had to abandon their homes to explore beyond their own backyards some time in their lives.

But, when I thought of this, I sighed miserably; this would entail leaving my two best friends who were definitely significant to me. It would be difficult, to say the least, even as my heart grew restless—I yearned to visit (possibly live in) Japan in my lifetime. I had to sacrifice personal happiness to do this. Perhaps I could return to Wammy's House and see my friends after a few months' leave. That sounded like a brilliant plan.

Despite my resolve for the future being set, I took scant solace in it due to the excruciating pain wrenching my heart. I had never before left Matt and Mello, not even outside of Winchester. The age to move out was nigh, my biological clock ticking like a proverbial time bomb. I had to liberate myself from the chains of childhood; this, I knew.

With a heavy heart, I inwardly declared that day to be the final one I would ever spend at Wammy's House. The actual packing of my few belongings wouldn't happen until dusk, I decided. Merely to avert my thoughts from the depression of leaving, I went to my room to play my piano. I noticed that today did look beautiful outside.

Swollen powdery white clouds crawled in the azure sky, the sun sharing its light with everyone below it. Sparrows chirped out their hymns and were often interrupted by the shouts and ecstatic laughter of the children playing in the courtyard. Strong emotions filled my heart to the brim, though I denied them. Despite residing one more day here, I still could never bring myself to go outside.

The Lawliet blood ran incessantly through my veins. If the other orphans were bound and determined to abhor me the rest of my life because of that undeniable fact, then so be it. They would still remain untrustworthy foes forever, since they willed it that way.

I gently pulled out my piano seat, sat down, and shoved the ebony cover back to reveal the keys—black and white laying together in unison. My fingers smoothly slid down each individual key, my ears admiring the soft, pure sounds I heard. This melodious music which the piano produced ignited my soul in a passionate blaze.

My heart pounded anxiously against my ribs, pining for me to play a song, any song, just as long as its hunger was satisfied. I, refusing to deny its wishes, permitted my fingers to select certain keys to form the song I wanted to play so desperately. I was at the instrument's mercy when I sensed its smoothness, delicious to the touch. Even if that didn't make sense, being caught up in this moment did. It would stay forever, I thought, an eternity with a most beloved yet inanimate companion.

Also allowing my vocal cords to gain some exercise, I started singing along with the somewhat slow tempo and the entrancing melody; I was one with this song. Once I delved into any song, for that matter, I threw my heart and soul into it. As an artist, I became more emotional, more passionate than I ever let on outside my room. With that being said, I sang "Let It Be" by the Beatles as tomorrow would never come.

I found myself so taken by the music that my ears grew deaf to any other noise that might disturb me. A creator at work must never be interrupted. However, I disregarded the door opening and a stifled gasp accompanying it. When I reached the height of the song, someone remarked, "You never told us you could sing—or play piano either."

Startled, my suddenly clumsy fingers hit an ill-fitting F sharp key. My head shot up, and I swiveled around to see Matt and Mello standing at my doorway. Obviously, I had inanely forgotten to shut the door, which I usually ensured to do.

Mello bit off a rather large hunk of his chocolate bar. "You're good...but, I don't really like music. It aggravates me, you know. And, really, I don't see why I should care. Later."

I always found it odd how he could imply one thing yet totally mean the opposite. Mello preferred being a rather contradictory fellow, though, no matter if we were friends. Honestly, what he had told me brought my self-esteem down a few notches; the awkward sense of receiving criticism taunted me.

Impulsively, I gave a sigh of lament before turning back to the piano. Only Mello would state such harsh words, even to me. I was no longer safe from his insults. At least he had retreated from the doorway to his own devices, presumably trying to crack Near's emotionless shell again with fighting words. Matt, to my surprise, still remained; then again, he was the one who had exalted me.

"Why are you still here?" I murmured, practically lachrymose from the stinging remark from Mello. "Aren't you going to follow Mello?"

Matt waved a dismissive hand. "Nah! I don't feel like it. Don't let him get you down, by the way."

Donning my ice-cold facial mask aka looking robotic, I lightly tapped my finger against one of the keys. "How can I not? I was criticized—I knew that secret should have stayed hidden."

"He's just pissed that Near beat him in test scores again. It's not your fault," he assured me.

A minor exhale slipped from my lips when I heard this, and I withdrew my fingers from the piano key I had pretended to distract myself with. "I wish he didn't insist on taking it out on me, though. I got fifth on the exams due to the fact I despise math."

"Don't we all?" Matt laughed slightly before sitting next to me on the cushioned piano bench. "You're really good at singing and playing that piano, you know. Why did you drop out of chorus anyway?"

The lines above my eyes (though not eyebrows) sprung upward. "How did you know that?"

He shrugged and looked somewhat apologetic. "I may have peeked at your schedule."

What would have infuriated me merely made me indifferent to this news. After all, the students in my former class had spoiled any potential shining moments for me.

"I decided to quit the course due to the simple fact that I didn't think it was worth it any more. I had been made a reluctant class pet for the teacher, which made the orphans who already didn't care for me despise me further. Really, I had tired of all that."

His emerald eyes glinting intriguingly behind his goggles, Matt advised, "Well, you should have ignored those damn jerks anyway. What do they know that you don't?"

I laughed wryly. "Good point, Matt. It's a shame that I didn't think of that."

We shared a companionable, relaxed silence in which he puffed on his cigarette, which let loose with a stream of gray smoke. I meandered to a daydream world consisting of musical notes and pianos and beautiful music that could move the soul. Such imaginings I had wistfully, but it was peaceful, wishful thinking—nothing that could damage me.

The quietness broke when the sound of a handheld being turned on cut through it; Matt, becoming bored, had commenced playing video games as usual.

He ruffled my hair as he rose from the bench, though whether it was done with a brotherly intent or not, I hadn't a clue.

"I'll see you at dinner, I guess," he called over his shoulder. "Rumor has it that they're serving liver and onions tonight."

Promptly chuckling upon observing my wrinkled nose, he strode breezily out the door.

Upon Matt's exit, I pulled the handle to my miniature fridge (another gift from L) to seek some rocky road ice cream. I habitually took out my spoon, something I could never dream of leaving without, to dig into the pint. In my eyes, a snack before dinner (my last dinner here, too) was perfect; as implied, I detested liver and onions, so that caused me to actually _want _to spoil my dinner. The Sunday church bells with their solemn tolls pealed out four hours after noon as I let the ice cream melt in my mouth.

I absolutely adored the bells, as well as the music they played every Sunday. The somber deepness of them fascinated me and just hearing them brought me solace. I recall that those bells inspired many a song that I would write in a notebook I kept tucked away in my dusty bureau drawer. With the sunset now arriving to paint the sky with its unique hues, I heard the bells' music die away until the next hour would come forth. The lovely peals remained tingling in my ears as I commenced my walk to the cafeteria.

I waved to my friends before sitting across them with my tray of disgusting dinner, which proved that the rumors Matt had mentioned were true. Doing my best to forget about the words "last time", I used my fork to play with the liver and onions. If I thought I disliked that dish before, I knew I hated it now. The acrid smell wafting into my nostrils gave me a strong urge to vomit along with the increased pain in my stomach. I could scarcely eat enough to suffice my apparently non-existent hunger, though I couldn't exactly dine while keeping my plan in mind. Leaving Mello and Matt was going to be worse than I anticipated.

Delving deeply into their conversation, the two boys rarely spoke to me, for my depressed silence. They were young men, though; I didn't expect them to suspect what my thoughts consisted of behind the muteness. Meanwhile, I heard the light-hearted chatter of the other children, the lucky ones who had no troubles on their minds. Then again, they aged younger than seventeen, which implied they still had the golden years ahead of them. And this was my last _day _here. I merely twiddled my thumbs to distract myself to stop this repetitive meditation—I barely managed to.

Faint pinprick stars glowed in the midsummer sky by the time I returned to my safe refuge of a room for—well, obviously, this affected me more than I predicted. Emotions stirred within me as I started gathering my clothes and took out a suitcase from my closet. I was in a hurry packing these items before I could cry, and I definitely refused to do that.

I hadn't cried in practically ten years due to the protection of my reactions, which I used meticulously. After all, I had pored over several psychology books in my time, so I could assume what people expected of their peers. Of course, I wasn't about to give my cruel, disdainful classmates the satisfaction of me reacting in negative ways. With this in mind, I blinked back unnecessary tears and finished collecting most of my belongings emotionlessly.

As I closed the suitcase clasps, something caught the corner of my eye. I bent down to my bed to see that a five-year-old photograph of Matt, Mello, and I lay in dust underneath the bed. My hand snatched the photo before I thought twice. It depicted the three of us standing on the front steps of the orphanage with Matt flashing his perfect grin, Mello smirking evilly, and me just barely smiling. We had managed to convince Linda, who liked to dabble in all things artistic, to snap the picture with her camera. She was actually the only other orphan who tolerated me, something I deemed a genuine miracle.

I carefully placed the wrinkled black and white photo in my jeans pocket and dug my hand inside to smooth out the creases. It meant so much to me, to part with it would have torn my heart to shreds. A wry smile, barely there, touched my lips before it faded when I forced my black eyes upon my adored piano. I had to say goodbye to my instrument and mute friend, having to face the fact that I could never make it speak again. This would serve as one of my most difficult partings, since the baby grand piano was L's gift. Therefore, the last reminder of my brother; regretfully, I had no choice but to let it go.

One last time I stroked the keys to hear the beautiful sounds emitting from them. Perhaps, I thought, my ardent passion for music had to die as well. A strange lump obstructed my throat, even though I attempted to convince myself that it was no more than a plaything.

But, honestly, it was one of significance; it hurt to leave it like this.

Closing the key cover that was the piano's eyelid, I strode to Mello's room with a determination to not waver in my half-concluded resolve. If I was to escape Wammy's House, I had to finish the painful remainder, even if it meant possible resentment from my loyal friends. Maybe they would jump ship when I broke the news. I put these haunting doubts to rest when I knocked on Mello's door.

He narrowed his sky-blue eyes slightly, looking irritated. I knew that the events of that day still frustrated him. Leaning against the wall, he quietly assessed me with those sharpened orbs, which pierced my soul. It was at this moment when he glimpsed my suitcase.

"You're leaving," Mello stated, far from being unsure regarding my intentions.

"Yes, I came to say goodbye...at least for the time being," I replied, sounding confident in myself...too confident.

His studious frown drastically altered into a tight lipped scowl that told me he believed this was my method of abandoning him. He showed his deep resentment for my decision this way. If I ever visited Mello at Wammy's again, I sensed relations between us would gradually distance themselves. He never revealed his past to us, but I think he was an abandoned child whose parents didn't even care about him. It would definitely be a reasonable explanation as to why he despised treachery and abandonment above all else.

He clenched his teeth before snapping them closed on his chocolate bar. "Whatever, I expected this anyway."

With his gruffly uttered sentence, Mello slammed the door in front of my face without so much as saying goodbye back. He was in denial, and he was also trying to drive me away before depression rendered him insane. Sadly, he was never one to take news well.

"I will see you again, Mello," I told him reassuringly through the door. "You may not like me now, but please remember all the good times the three of us have had. That is all I ask."

No response. I had figured as much; hopefully, he was thinking over my words. I sighed before exiting the corridor to descend painstakingly down the stairs, my heart sinking with each step. Now, I had to bid adieu to Matt, who would be the hardest to leave. We did share more in common, after all.

The redhead in question stood before one of the windows in the common room, his goggles catching the final rays of sunlight. Of course, he played his handheld while smoking his cigarette elegantly. I found that my voice had eluded me, and I could barely bestow to him a decent greeting. Luckily, he spoke to me first.

"Hey, weren't those liver and onions delicious?" Matt sarcastically quipped, glancing at me and pressing buttons at the same time. "I could barely eat my portion—I'm telling you, those people are trying to kill us."

"Matt, could we...take a walk?" I asked, my voice projecting above a whisper.

His smile faded. "Sure, but are you OK, V?"

I insisted that I was fine and promptly walked out the door with him following. We scarcely said a word as we ambled across the courtyard, only spotting a stray child playing here and there. Our enormous shadows stretched across the beautifully trimmed green grass, I observed. They were so close together, blending into each other, which served as a rather attractive sight. I had always found silhouettes pretty, and I almost wished that I owned a camera like Linda did. The trivial things captivated me, for I could feel more strongly than I displayed. That quality must run in the Lawliet family.

This abrupt thought made me wonder what my parents (I guess I should call them Mom and Dad) were like. Did they appreciate the artistry in nature, too? Or did they behave in a more practical manner like my brother L? I wished as I gazed at the many colored sky that I had known my parents better when I matured. If that car accident had never occurred, how would they have treated me? Sighing, I placed my hands in my pockets.

I could have sworn Matt ignored my sigh of lament, but he already paused his game, something he rarely dared to do.

"What's bothering you?" he inquired, attempting to come of as nonchalant, though I did catch a trace of concern in his voice.

"This is a really weird time for this, I'm assuming, but I was just thinking about my parents. I wondered what they were like when they had lived."

He let out a wry chuckle. "I bet you do. I don't think about my parents all that much. They're dead, I barely knew them, and I don't think it matters."

I nodded, comprehending his point of view while gazing at the increasingly brighter stars that started glowing. "I understand...though I do remember a woman's voice singing to me a long time ago. Perhaps it was my mother."

"Yeah, you're probably right." Matt shrugged, remaining relatively indifferent to my recollection. Now that he was seventeen, he considered himself too cool to care. How could he force himself into insensitivity like that?

Another silence pressed over us as the ebony blanket of night draped over our surroundings.

I currently meditated over Matt's potential reaction when I would tell him my next objective. Would he say something along the lines of, "Well, it was nice knowing you. Good luck."? Or would he sincerely care this time? There was only one way to find out.

"I'm leaving here—tonight," I whispered loudly enough to be coherent.

Pausing his game suddenly, Matt jolted slightly from this. "You are? Where are you going anyway?"

"Japan. I always wanted to travel, you know."

Still somewhat numb from shock, he awkwardly scratched his head. "Yeah, but...this is so sudden. V, I thought you were going to wait a year at least."

I smiled slightly at him as I took one final look at him for memory's sake. "You were always my preferred friend out of the two of you. Speaking of which, Mello didn't take things well, but—"

"He's Mello," Matt finished with his famous smile again. Even behind his smile, though, I espied the faintest hint of sorrow in his emerald eyes that lay behind his goggles. He would miss my company after all. This knowledge resulted in an impulsive statement on my part.

"I'll...miss you," I muttered before turning my head away to feign studying the perimeter of the orphanage. Somehow, I sensed him smiling at me before I made my way cautiously toward the gates, the same ones L had gone through ten years ago.

And then, I heard Matt's response.

"Send me a postcard!" he called to me, and I discovered that I was laughing as I opened those metallic gates.

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**A/N: I thought it would be interesting if V was musically inclined--I think it would be awesome if Death Note had had a character like that. And lachrymose is my favorite word. So...I thought, after I first wrote this, that this chapter was rather sad, don't you agree? Especially Mello's reaction and V just leaving Wammy's. Well, when one door closes, another one opens. And there's definitely gonna be an interesting door opening up next chapter...hmmm...**


	5. Risk

**A/N: You know, guys, this has been nearly a week since DEALTHY first came out, and I STILL can't believe how popular it is! I could give all you readers and reviewers free candy if I could (but shipping and handling is waaaaay too steep these days). XD**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note. I am only using some quotes off it, but not too many--this is only a fan-made fic!**

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**Chapter 5: Risk**

I had resided in the Kanto region of Tokyo, Japan for two months. When I first departed my flight from London to this industrious city, I didn't know what to expect. Sure, I had seen pictures of Tokyo in textbooks, but I had never actually seen the real thing in person. I was in for a shock when that day came, though, no matter how much I studied up on one of the most populous cities in the world. I had scarcely glimpsed upon so much humanity in my life before the moment I exited the airport building. Winchester, the city where Wammy's House called home, boasted of a modest population. Here in Tokyo, it was as if the residents of Winchester had increased tenfold. I was so stunned, impatient people shoved me out of their ways to hail taxi cabs or rush to their destinations. I had landed in a different world than the one in which I had grown up.

Normally, newcomers like me would have felt challenged as to selecting the ideal hotel or any source of shelter. My dearest brother, however, had sent me extensive amounts of money over the years; I had no worries about converting my pounds to Japanese yen. And I wound up receiving numerous yen. With this, I selected a steeply priced hotel in which to live during my time here. I had also decided to go under the alias Utako Miyazawa due to privacy reasons. Truthfully, I am a rather paranoid person who remains ever watchful of others. Besides, I couldn't risk someone from Wammy's recognizing me and taking me back to England forcefully.

Anxieties aside, I felt relatively happy and comfortable to be in the one place I had wished to visit for so long. Being in Japan gave me thrills, for I looked forward to partaking in the cuisine, which I liked due to its creativity and deliciousness. I still stuck to my ice cream for the main component of my diet, despite the sushi. After all, eating the frozen dessert had been a habit with me since I was a tot. As they say, old habits never die. This excellence that this fine country had to offer didn't stop me from missing my friends either. At night, I pondered over whether they thought about me or had moved on to more intriguing ventures. Did Mello still obsess over his dream of obtaining the number one spot in test scores? Did Matt remain as carefree as ever?

After my restless thoughts about my friends would temporarily cease, I would remove my photograph of the three of us from a pouch in my suitcase and stare at it for minutes on end. I traced the smiles on our faces in an almost daydreaming sort of state, my black eyes clouding over from the memories flashing in my mind. Even then, I would hardly sleep a wink, though I suppose that aspect came from L, too. That would make me wonder if we were fraternal twins or not. Of course, that was impossible but still... I shared too many qualities with my brother. Lack of sleep that caused the bags under my eyes just served as one of those many quirks.

I often thought of him as well, asking myself questions as to how he came along with his work. The last time I had ever had direct contact with him was three years ago.

Three endless years without L talking to me via computer. I missed our conversations so dreadfully; I idiotically would pick up my telephone only to remember he had concealed himself in mystery. Therefore, it was virtually impossible to even speak with him unless he willed it himself. A contrary man, if I do say so myself.

* * *

A certain event occurred that late summer in Tokyo, one that would alter the course of my life forever. So the stars deemed it, and so it passed. The day dawned like any other, with me rising from bed (after another pitiful attempt at sleep), eating my ice cream, and turning my mind into pure rubbish by watching television. Normally, I remained indoors every day, considering my dislike for possible threats that lay beyond the comforts of shelter. As aforementioned, I have an extremely paranoid streak in me.

With the remote, I switched the channels constantly in the hopes of unearthing an interesting program. Disappointment swept over me, compelling me to turn off the television and retrieve more ice cream from my mini fridge. Roger, from the actual kindness of his heart, had discovered my whereabouts to send me my dessert source. I selected a pint with fudge marble flavor and permitted the day to drift away. As long as I relaxed, nothing could perturb me. I felt composed, and, for once, satisfied with my life. A peace, unfortunately, that was inevitably doomed to shatter.

By happenstance, at approximately 4:00 P.M., I dully switched the TV on again to seek refuge from, admittedly, boredom. Suddenly, a news bulletin interrupted the game show I had been avidly watching.

"The answer is Winston Churchill. I knew that!" I shouted out of frustration before calming myself down. The tediousness had eaten away at me more than I thought. But, the news reporter narrating the bulletin spoke of a global telecast sent by Interpol.

"Globally, huh?" I murmured as I studied the face of the man featured, Lind L. Tailor. "I find that rather difficult to comprehend."

What piqued my attention still further, however, was when this thirty-something-year-old man started to speak. The words that escaped his lips were mere lies.

"I am Lind L. Tailor, more commonly known as 'L'...."

Tilting my head slightly to the left, I snorted disbelievingly. "L? You, sir, are not my brother...unless this is just an elaborate scheme devised by him. I wonder what all this is about anyway."

I soon received my answers in the form of Mr. Tailor informing the general public of a case of mass murdering going on in Japan. This, of course, made me somewhat uncomfortable.

Commencing to think on how terrible a time it was for me to vacation in this specific area, I listened as the man reached the conclusion that the killer lived in or temporarily stayed in this beautiful country. Why would anyone disturb its peace? Then again, such peace served as a rare find in any location. Presumably, Japan was no different. I sighed, cursing my misfortune and longing to catch the first flight to England as soon as possible.

But, no...I wanted to delve more into this, unveil more clues—I couldn't turn my back now. Despite my lack of deducing expertise, I knew enough psychological traits to aid me if I ever resolved to take this case alongside my brother. My idea strengthened when Mr. Tailor announced that he planned to engage in a "direct confrontation with the killer." That could only end tragically—that is, if it happened at all. For, these serial killers or serial killer sounded vastly intelligent; else the police would have apprehended him (or them) by now.

Sure enough, my suspicions proved correct when Lind L. Tailor addressed the killer himself by uttering words that would cause him to act viciously as well as defensively.

"Kira, I think I've got a pretty good idea of why you're doing this. But, what you are doing...is evil!"

Kira. An accursed Japanese name meaning "killer" when translated to English. How appropriate. I wondered why no murderer in this country had ever adopted that name before. Just those two syllables sounded bone-chilling when spoken.

And, yes, this killer's—Kira's—wrath had stirred, for forty seconds later...

Lind L. Tailor collapsed on the table he sat behind, dead of a heart attack.

Unsurprised that that man had died due to his bold yet utterly foolish move of informing Kira of his vile cruelty, I quickly made myself a cup of tea. Sitting back down on my couch, I took ladylike slurps (if that makes sense) and muttered to myself. "So...Kira, is it? Apparently, you need a name and face to kill. After all, I saw no bullets strike Mr. Tailor—no. This is highly advanced murdering...and it's disgusting. Very much appalling; I hope my brother does come after you."

A garbled voice, obviously concealing its true owner, came onto the TV just then.

"I...I don't believe it. This was an experiment to test a hunch I had, but I never really thought... Kira...you can actually kill people without direct contact..."

My eyes dilated ever so slightly; even L hadn't been prepared for this. But, at least he could voice his ideas on the whole subject via satellite. Knowing him, he probably had more extensive knowledge than I possessed. In fact, he did as he told Kira how Lind L. Tailor was, in reality, a convicted criminal already set for execution, a secret from the usually nosy media.

"But, I, L, do in fact exist," he summed up for the moment. "So, come on! Kill me if you can!"

Due to a possible dark sense of humor, I proceeded to laugh softly, barely a whisper. L, an ever diligent man, kept his face hidden while only his symbol showed on the television; thus, Kira had the inability to kill him due to lack of a proper name and face. It was ingenious!

My giggles increased upon hearing my brother taunt Kira for an almost incessant period of time. They died down once I heard him say, "I'm still here. Can't do it, Kira? Evidently, you _aren't _able to kill me."

L proceeded to reveal what his plan had consisted of to his now mortal enemy and explained that everything was broadcast here in this region of Japan. By a stroke of luck, he had managed to pinpoint Kira's location due to this idea. At that moment, my pride for L went up tenfold. He could do no wrong in my eyes, for he was the genius with the highest IQ in the family. His words to Kira assured all viewers that he would endeavor to stop that madman at all costs. Toward the finale of his speech, these words rang loud and clear.

Determination, fierce determination, embedded itself within his voice when he declared, "Kira...I will hunt you down and eliminate you. I am justice!" With these last two sentences ringing in my ears, I discovered that normal programming had been restored. Of course, my interest for the game show had faded, and I pondered over what I should do in the future. Surely, my brother had enlisted help for this case, which sounded complicated in itself. This scenario of killing with a name and face in mind practically sounded like paranormal circumstance. How else would Kira be able to conduct the murders? And, yet another burning question, why would he even possess the motive to do such crazed acts?

I sighed as I sipped the last of my tea. I had to assist L in this case; there truly was no other way around it. For, I couldn't exactly stand on the sidelines and nervously await my brother's victory...or defeat. I knew his anger toward me if I settled on doing this would be immense, considering the last thing he ever wished to do was put my life on the line. Hopefully, once he comprehended my philosophy behind my decision, he would warm up to it.

He had to, whether he liked it or not. Besides that, the alias I had used while in Japan thus far served as the perfect cover in the event that L decided to work with others. At this rate, he would have to rely on the police or some other agency to solve this case. But, luckily, if I acted according to my own plan, no one would ever learn of V Lawliet's existence. Instead, the people involved in this case would merely know Utako Miyazawa.

I waited a few days and maintained a wary eye on the news to receive any updates on Kira or L. As it turned out, L had indeed enlisted the help in the form of twelve FBI agents. I assumed he had them track Kira's whereabouts...or something to that effect. Consider I lived in seclusion, I couldn't know for sure the events of these few days. But, by the time that week had passed, I learned that Kira had killed all twelve FBI agents hired on for the case. In a murderer's standpoint, a smart move; he did this to turn the American detective agencies against L. I was sure of it. And all the while Kira still persisted in his slaughtering. A more diabolical man (what other gender could he be?) of whom I had never heard the existence.

With this fiery conviction, I took out a phone book and flipped through its pages.

I had to guess as to L's location, for I couldn't help but wish to work with him now. This was the case of a lifetime for him, one of which I would prevent him from failing and one of which I would ensure his triumph. Every time he had thrown himself into a case, I would worry over his survival. But, no more did I want to fret. No more did I want to stand on the sidelines. So, when my finger landed on the words "Imperial Hotel", a ritzy hotel which only the richest people could afford, instinct told me I would find L there. In the past, he would divulge his locations only to me, and they would consist of hotels that he could stay in without having to reveal his face. Of course, they had to be expensive.

Resolving to abandon my luggage for the time being (I refused to look conspicuous), I left my hotel room after eating yet another pint of ice cream. I hailed a taxi cab upon my exit, requesting to go to the Imperial Hotel. I wasn't one hundred percent confident that L would stay there, but I had utilized the process of elimination. Hopefully, that would be enough. Naturally wasting no time upon admiring the architectural beauty of the hotel, I entered through the elaborate glass doors. I felt surprised from my luck when I glimpsed a group of five men stepping into an elevator. Surely, these men were the ones that L decided to work with, or else they wouldn't be in grouped together like they were. Sneakily moving past the reception desk (again thanks to luck), I took the stairs two at a time, my heart beating incessantly the whole time. I saw the men enter a room door, and I made myself hidden behind a corridor corner. Once the door closed behind the last man, I tiptoed up to it.

I usually looked condescendingly down upon eavesdropping; however, an exception had to be made due to my desire to inadvertently receive some background information. Only then would I reveal myself to L and the group of men who worked under him now. Through the wooden door that separated me from them, I listened to L make his introduction and insistence that the men call him Ryuzaki, yet another alias. He had more aliases than I would ever bother with, truthfully. Also, he seemed to possess the same assumptions as I had when it came to Kira's murdering techniques—needing a mere name and face. L moved on to discuss what he thought the serial killer's thought processes were, which turned out to be the always human fear of losing. Yet, what Kira did was inhuman, an irony in itself.

At the point when L stated that Kira might have had access to task force information, I opened the door.

It seemed like such a drawn-out action for me, honestly, to open the door and see five pairs of shocked eyes glued to me. Who knew what ran through their minds? As for my brother, he maintained a guarded expression on his face, though he looked as though he wished to yell at me on the spot.

"I know what you're thinking, everyone," I calmly addressed them, "but I will, of course, keep this meeting a secret. My name is Utako Miyazawa. I am a colleague of L's."

The still shocked men turned their eyes to L, who nodded.

"Yes, I know her well. I have worked with her in the past."

Thankfully, the conversation reverted back to the task at hand, the Kira case. The oldest man on the task force spoke to L after listening intently to him like all the rest.

"Ryuzaki, by showing your face to us, are you saying you have lost? Are you admitting defeat to Kira?" he inquired, his wizened face showing in intensity.

"Yes, by sacrificing the lives of twelve FBI agents, I have lost the battle," L conceded before appearing even more determined, "but I'm not gonna lose the war."

He went on to make a little speech that had me even more proud of him. And what really surprised me was his last comment...or at least what came after it.

"And that justice will prevail no matter what." He smiled a rare smile that I had only seen one other time.

The rest of us returned his smile, with mine being the most sincere. Maybe he would keep his fury toward me down to a minimum. However, after each of the men introduced himself to me once the meeting concluded, L asked me to stay behind. I tapped my fingers against the inside of my sweatshirt pocket nervously, aware of what would come next.

"What were you thinking, V?" L practically hissed, as if he could barely hold back his rage. Yet, in order to keep up appearances, he never yelled. He did, however, reprimand.

"L, as your sister, I am concerned for your well-being," I told him in a frigidly placid tone of voice, since he would never see me erupt into anger.

He proceeded to pace back and forth, though managed to do it in a calm, sensible fashion. "I told you that I couldn't afford to risk your life. This entirely defeats the purpose of you being twentieth in the lineage."

Nodding to concede that this fact was true, I still had much to discuss with my brother. Didn't he realize I had taken precautions? Did he know that I had matured?

I took a more gentle approach by walking toward L, who stood looking outside one of the windows. "Please just hear me out. I'm not the baby any more. I have grown over the past nine years—I think I can look after myself. Besides," I then grinned slightly, "I guess orphaned siblings tend to be overprotective of one another."

He heaved a great sigh, almost as if it pained him to look upon me as a young adult instead of the eager young girl from a long time ago. Meticulously, he returned my grin with a barely visible smile.

The realization had hit him that I was no longer a little girl who felt helpless when alone. On the contrary, being alone hardly affected me now in a negative way.

"I suppose you're right. And you did manage to come up with an alias. Very well. I shall contact the hotel where you've been staying and retrieve your belongings."

Inwardly, I screamed, "Yes!" but instead of shouting that aloud, I told him, "You know, I would hug you if not for the fact I'm too old. I don't believe in incest either."

L struggled to suppress an appalled expression, which he managed to do splendidly. I still laughed at him, though.

Before he called the receptionist to proclaim my arrival, he muttered, "Keep in mind that only your grand speech convinced me that you should work with me."

* * *

**A/N: A little background info on V's alias: I did some research and found out that U is the equivalent of V in Japan. I kind of thought it'd be cool if her alias was similar to L's in just that respect. Also, this chapter was to demonstrate that yes, V does have a humerous side. The last sentence that L says in response to this is, admittedly, my favorite. I just thought it would be very L-ish of him to say that! XD**

**So, V is now on the task force. How will things progress? Review to find out!**


	6. Suspect

**A/N: Hello, everybody, welcome to another chapter of my story. I told one of my fans I would update tomorrow, but I always update earlier than originally planned. I think it's because I'm as eager to update as you guys are to read. XD Lot of events in this chapter, so I'll leave you to your reading.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Death Note. There.**

* * *

**Chapter 6: Suspect**

A string of events occurred not long after my official induction to the task force. I had barely gotten to know Chief Yagami, Aizawa, Matsuda, Mogi, and Ukita when we discovered that Naomi Misora had vanished. She had been engaged to Raye Penber, one of the twelve FBI victims; presumably, she had committed suicide. L had entirely ruled out that possibility, however, considering he had worked with her on the Beyond Birthday case in Los Angeles. He knew her well enough to believe that she would have remained strong in the dark, shadowy face of death. Whatever the reason, I secretly deemed that Kira had victimized Ms. Misora just as he had with her fiancé. She definitely was a tremendous loss to the world of justice. I had almost hoped that she would have joined us in the case; I could tell that L thought the same thing.

We as a team discussed this for a while before moving further into the investigation.

L, as genius as ever, seemed to have narrowed the suspect down to being a member of one of two families. Deputy Director General Kitamura's family and Chief Yagami's family would unknowingly have bugs and wire taps in their houses. When Yagami was told this, as well as the rest of the task force, he was extremely displeased. He ardently spoke out against the idea and for and understandable reason, too. His two children still resided in the Yagami household; naturally, he would worry over this. But then, surprisingly, he reluctantly agreed. The next day, three of us (L, Yagami, and I) watched what went on in the house.

Expressing particular interest in Yagami's son Light, my brother focused looking through the cameras to the seventeen-year-old boy's room. The scene that played out looked nothing special. Light merely flipped through the pages of a provocative magazine, almost trying too hard to appear innocent...as though he kept something hidden...

"Yagami-san, may I be so bold as to venture that your son might be hiding something?" I asked, gazing intensely at the boy on the laptop screen.

Mr. Yagami, who was gradually becoming similar to a father toward me, glanced at me suspiciously; however, he seemed to comprehend my reasoning by nodding his head slightly.

"Utako, I assure you, Light just wanted to hide the magazines," he told me in a somewhat stern tone. "I would never suspect my son of doing anything, much less killing. He's a straight _A _student."

L glanced my way for a fraction of a second before observing Light again. "I have to say that Yagami-san's son is rather intelligent. I might even say that his thought processes are uncannily similar to mine. Of course, I don't know that yet."

"Do you plan to investigate this then?" I inquired, tapping my fingers against my knee as I scooped another spoonful of ice cream into my mouth. At that moment, I felt grateful that L had arranged to return my mini refrigerator to me. The currently strawberry flavor of ice cream distracted me, so that I wouldn't get as nervous as I assumed. For, the truth was, I distrusted Light Yagami on sight. He emitted a seemingly cold, calculating aura that could very well be that of a serial killer's.

Noting my ever-so-slightly disconcerted behavior, L replied tersely, "I plan to, yes. As to how I am going to go about it, I don't know. Considering the current situation, we have to handle this delicately. After all, Yagami-san, this is your son."

Mr. Yagami nodded in affirmation again. "Yes, Ryuzaki. But, still, why do you suspect him of committing such atrocious crimes?"

"As I said before, he is extremely intelligent."

A quietly uttered debate between the two them commenced, and, not wishing to irritate them by an interruption, I mutely retreated to my room to gather my thoughts.

L had been correct in assuming that Light possessed vast intelligence. After all, he did the most rational thing by appearing normal and flipping through magazines. It was almost as if he was keenly aware of the wire taps in his bedroom. But, how could that be possible? The spy technology installment remained entirely secretive on the day it occurred. Did Light Yagami have a fox's cunning at his disposal? I longed to abhor him already, even though I technically had never met him before in my life. I assumed he had to be Kira, for his charmingly innocent façade didn't fool me. He looked the type to talk his way out of any situation; if L did manage to corner him one of these days, he would find this an inability. Once my brother concluded on something, he was confident of his unfailing accuracy. Maybe Light would fall victim to this.

From my seated position on my bed, I heard the shutting of a door that signaled that the members had finished assisting for the day. I sighed, glad that they hardly noticed my prior departure. Really, I had contributed to the case and tried to pull as much weight as I could. But the fact of the matter was that I rarely spoke unless to express my opinions. I needed to strive toward the goal of Kira behind bars more persistently in order to convert hope into reality. I had to prove to L I could fend for myself, as well as display my usefulness. My lack, admittedly, of help to him had done nothing; I was becoming frustrated with myself. What would be the greater of two evils: my brother claiming the rights as champion over Kira or his untimely defeat?

L opened my door just as I clenched a fist due to my inward self-loathing. Rather surprised at this abrupt entrance, I quietly looked him in the eye.

Before I asked what he wanted from me, he announced, "I think I have come up with a plan as to approaching Light who, as you're probably assuming by now, is the primes suspect."

"Why are you telling me this? Weren't you going to inform the rest of the task force?"

He sighed, though I barely heard it. "I would prefer to tell you and Watari, considering that I trust you two above all else. Besides, I have only just thought this up."

I nodded in understanding as he permitted me to sidle carefully by him on the way out my room.

We walked to the main portion of the room with the couch and the in-tables to take our seats. Quickly, L communicated via laptop to Watari to tell him to order strawberry shortcake from the hotel's restaurant. This was a different hotel that my brother decided to temporarily move the task force headquarters to for a few days; we switched hotels on a weekly basis to ensure our safety. When our kindly former caretaker—now aide—gave us the scrumptious-looking cake, L promptly stabbed a strawberry with his fork. I took a fork that happened to lay on the table myself and cut a portion of it. He loved cakes more than I did, since my preference for ice cream was much stronger. Not only that, but he liked his method of settling down with desserts, fruits, or a cup of tea before commencing a long discussion. He did this to sharpen his attention while using his ten percent of his brain to think things through.

We both sat like this for some time, eating cake without saying a word. The silence seemed to last forever as I licked delicious whipped cream from my finger. As I permitted the sweetness to capture my taste buds, L finally decided to speak.

"I have thought about going to To-Oh University's testing center six days from now to spy on Light. Even though I will go under the alias Hideki Ryuga, I will reveal my true name to him at the entrance ceremony two months after testing."

My mouth nearly dropped open, though I compensated for this by tightening my lips. Why would he do something this rash at such an early stage? And he had told _me _about the risks I had taken to work with him. He almost seemed a hypocrite in this respect.

Reinforcing the firm tone of my voice, I calmly replied, "What I think you plan to do is foolish. How will unveiling your name to the prime suspect help you? Frankly, it can only hurt you."

L appeared interested in my opinion as he placed his thumb at his lip. "Go on."

He always did this, encouraging people with contrasting ideas that opposed his to resume their explanations. Sure it came off as mature, but it could be irksome, too. With me, it was on the verge of infuriating. However, I placated myself again before I could explode.

"If you tell Light Yagami you're L, it would be idiotic. That's all I have to say."

His eyes glinted slightly from him hearing this rather huffy response from me. I sensed that I had given him the reaction he figured I would enact. Genius yet almost maddening at the same time; L's ideas usually were like this to the vast majority of colleagues he had ever talked to. I guessed this included me.

"That's exactly what I want him to think," he stated as he placed another forkful of cake in his mouth. "If Light is Kira, he will underestimate me if I follow through with my plan. He will think me foolish, just as you did. But, most of all, he will question my actions. Am I or am I not L? This will leave him frustrated. Then, the next phases of my plan will fall into place. That won't be, however, until later."

I contemplated over his words and believed his key point without a doubt in my mind.

My thoughts then turned to the desire of serving some purpose to the Kira investigation in any way I could. I didn't want to be a burden to the force. If anything, I wanted to prove how desperate I had felt before joining. Basically, I wanted to tag along with L when he planned to set off for To-Oh University, one of the most prestigious schools in Japan. Perhaps I could give a psychological analysis of Light Yagami by merely summing him up using my eyes and my mind. Seven years of perusing psychology textbooks would pay off; in this way, I could flaunt my true worth.

"I want to come with you," I steadily told L while finishing off the rest of my portion of cake. "I want to prove that I have the ability and intelligence to be here with this extremely affable group of force members. To be a burden, for me, is not an option."

His thumb slid up his lower lip gradually, almost as if he considered barring me from this opportunity. He preferred to have me guarded by him since he possibly feared facing the tremendous cost this case would have, with my life paying the price. As a brother, he had every right for these concerns. Only when I suddenly paid heed to an abrupt release of bated breath did I realize that he would offer his consent.

"All right," L stated in his monotone, which sounded entirely devoid of reaction, "you may go. However, I expect you to use another alias, as well as to heighten your alertness. And, I suppose that the price will be...no ice cream for a day."

"Are you serious?" I managed to not raise my voice, though I was very close to doing that.

"If you want to go and look inconspicuous, as well as note what Light Yagami's subtle mannerisms are, then yes, sacrifice your ice cream," he replied coolly.

"Only if you will stop drinking coffee for a week."

"That won't happen. I require all the energy possible to stay awake constantly."

"Fine," I sighed, surrendering to my fate.

So the decision was set: I would ride in Watari's limo with L sitting next to me. As we discussed this further, I understood that my fake last name would differ from his fake one and that I would retreat to the vehicle first. This was to prevent any potential threat of dying an untimely, tragic death. Also, I had to avoid Light at all times until L deemed it safe to interact with him. Even though the measures my brother would utilize concerning me were rather cautious and overprotective, I knew that they resulted from care. Despite never betraying his emotions to anybody, he truly did harbor a sibling's affection for me. I hid a slight smile in this knowledge as the last of the cake vanished into L's mouth, which implied the finality of our talk. With exchanged biddings of "good night", I retired to my bedroom while L had to pull his routine all-nighter.

* * *

Nearly two months passed before we set off for To-Oh University for the second time, with L informing the other members and telling them to remain diligent during our absence. Under my selected alias of Urara Yoshida, I rode in the limousine beside him as planned. I could hardly believe how extensive his wealth amassed; despite this, he dressed down to casual clothes that middle-class citizens would wear. Then again, L was never one to boast about his fortunes. He preferred to keep quiet regarding topics like that. I currently looked out the window, processing the throngs of pedestrians rushing to arrive at their destinations. Business men, parents with their children, ecstatic teenagers already dreaming about the end of a school day—all of them crowding the crosswalks.

This caused for severe traffic jams, yet for dreamers like me, it didn't matter.

I wondered about these people and what lives they had to lead; honestly, I doubted they were half as interesting as mine. I always desired to know of what an average life consisted. Parents were definitely involved in such a life, components of which I had a lack. Seeing fortunate Japanese children with their mothers and fathers compelled me to turn green from sheer envy. Maybe if I had still had mine, I would rarely find myself as lonely as I was.

"L," I murmured, my eyes staying focused on the urban scenery outside, "do you remember Mom and Dad very well?"

Appearing confused from being asked such an unprecedented question, he glanced at me with a guarded expression. I could tell that this topic somewhat perturbed him.

"V, why do you speak of this now?"

I looked at him briefly. "I see all these children with their parents. I couldn't help but wonder what my own were like."

Displaying major reluctance as he gripped his kneecaps tighter, L replied, "If memory serves me right, they adored you. Our mother would sing lullabies to you whenever you started fussing, which was a rare occurrence in itself. You enjoyed the singing and even tried imitating it. As for our father, he would always laugh and joke—he even changed your diaper once."

I signaled my satisfaction with a nod of the head, for at least I had gained closure when it came to the prior mystery of my parents. Pondering over if they looked down upon us now with pride filling their eyes, I scarcely noticed until the slight lurch of the limo that it was time now to depart to quietly head over to the university. Even though I highly doubted I would attend To-Oh that much anyway, I was still curious to see how I ranked amongst the other entering students. It served as mere entertainment, really; plans to go to college remained non-existent for me. I already possessed more intelligence than one could ever hope to obtain in a lifetime. In my eyes, self-teaching was better than education at any school. At least the former didn't involve interacting and socializing with fellow students. I had fared poorly at that.

After discovering that I ranked fifth in scores, as well as being the only female student in the top ten, I slowly walked behind L to the building. I didn't want any passersby to assume that blood connected us, especially that Yagami boy. Who knew what he had up his sleeve? He might have been one wisely planned step ahead of L, and we wouldn't have an idea as to why or how. Admittedly, Light unnerved me, even if I had never been near him.

Until now.

Seating myself two rows behind my brother and the suspect, I observed as they promptly rose to take the stage. Strange, how they had sat in front of me for mere seconds. Perhaps this was L's manner of telling me where he would sit afterwards. Also his "name" and the suspect's had been called.

Even for those seconds, Light had made me feel even more uncomfortable than to begin with; I sensed that maybe his innocence was rather forced. Yet, everyone he passed thought he was extraordinary, judging from the positive feedback I heard about him. These students praise him and were awestruck at the fact that he scored a hundred percent on every exam subject. So did L, but nobody cared about him due to his odd appearance. Judgmental behavior in this world disgusted me, especially considering that my brother wouldn't dare to be cruel to anyone. However, he did draw back from friendships. I sighed as I watched the two freshman representatives, L and Light, take turns speaking. Light's speech was long and drawn-out (he obviously loved to hear himself talk), whereas L's only lasted five minutes and was precise.

They retreated to their seats in the extreme front row afterwards, compelling me to lean forward in my chair. This earned me a few oddly displayed glances from surrounding people, but I could care less as to their opinions of me. I was used to others looking upon me like a sideshow freak. L was busily discussing the Kira case with Light, who seemed attentive enough, despite the fact that I could only see the back of his head. I also caught word of a response he gave after L paused.

"Sure, I won't tell anyone. What is it?" he inquired as he tried slightly too hard to come off as apathetic to my brother's request. Otherwise, he made for a talented actor.

"I wanted to tell you I'm L."

I nearly shook my head, incredulous when it came to L's tone; it sounded like a mere stage whisper. Surely, he could have been more discreet.

Thankfully, though, I succeeded in studying Light's silent reaction, despite my skepticism. His head straightened abruptly, as though he had just received an unpleasant static shock. I had caught him in the act of appearing genuinely nervous. And, as I leaned still forward, I thought I espied a bead of perspiration stream down his temple.

A few minutes later, all assembled in the auditorium were dismissed for the day. Quickly striding by dispersing students, I ensured to enter the limo first. That way, hardly any passersby would notice me, and L wouldn't have to worry too much. When he came inside, he was interested to hear my report.

"Did you gather any traits regarding the prime suspect?" he asked quietly, most likely to contain his avid intrigue.

"He was rather surprised by your reveal. In fact, he stiffened his neck, which backs my theory. Besides, I assume he thinks you are quite the fool now."

A tiny smirk, one I almost missed, crossed L's lips. "Light Yagami won't like being hoodwinked like that, then.

He proved accurate, as always, in this respect, for I did believe that Light would hardly take this well. Indeed, he probably wished to strangle L about now due to merely being blindsided by my brother's statement. If he kept finding himself tricked, we would win this case.

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**A/N: Oooh, somebody doesn't like Light! XD Of course V wouldn't, for she's very suspicious of him. I wonder why. XP But, anyway, I decided to have V reflect on her parents that she practically didn't know to give off a sort of Harry Potter vibe. For, really, this story is like a movie in my head.**

**OVER 200 HITS TO THIS STORY, TOO! You guys are the best! I will update either Saturday or Sunday, since I'm an indecisive person. So, sorry if you're disappointed either of those two days. **


	7. Incident

**A/N: Hey, guys, here's a chapter to start off your weekends with! XD This is a suspenseful, nail-biting one, so I won't say much more.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own neither Death Note nor quotes used. However, I do own V, who I think objects to being owned. If I say much more on THAT subject, I'm going to have ice cream hurled at me, LOL! Yeah, I'm crazy, I know. If you have a problem with that, take it up with my non-existent lawyer. XD**

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**Chapter 7: Incident**

The case played out well thus far—or at least as well as L expected by realistic standards. He had challenged Light to a leisurely tennis match to test just how competitive recently entered college student became. Judging from the later account I listened to, he despised losing more than anything and did everything in his power to ensure that L lost the game. Both young men had competed in amateur tournaments in their time, so it had made for an intense, interesting observation; thus, quite a few students flocked around the court to watch. After the game's conclusion, L decided to hold his own psychological appraisal of Light by a suggestion of going to a small eatery to chat. This they did before the emergency of Mr. Yagami's heart attack occurred.

The heart attack happened so suddenly, even I found myself shocked and concerned over the chief's well-being. At the time, I had been sipping tea while overseeing the other members working, just as L had requested two hours earlier. L had briefly called to inform me, though he spoke as though everything would be OK. Truth had resonated in his words, truth that consoled me.

And he was right.

However, one thing still bothered me, and it had to do with a request Light had made, which my brother told me. The younger Yagami wished to participate in the case once his father recovered.

Admittedly, this unnerved me, but I maintained my seemingly perpetual calm upon receiving this tidbit of news. We would nab Kira red-handed once we unveiled his game, whatever twisted devices of which it might consist. My confidence in this happening stayed intact, my hope burning incandescently. And after this case finally ended, my brother and I would continue working together, despite his usual solitude. I remember that announcement being uttered the night after the hospital visit L had paid with Light.

"Perhaps you can help me with future cases. You've been doing well." He plopped a cherry in his mouth in an almost pensive manner.

I contemplated his words before barely (and I do mean barely) smiling. "I would like that. It may not have always been my passion, but I can't see anything else in my future."

I sensed L's approval, even though he didn't show it, as customary for him. At that moment, I thought that maybe—in a way—the case had strengthened our bond. It brought us closer together. Saying it now sounds cliché, but at the time, it really wasn't. Besides, our intelligent minds combined well when it came to endeavoring to solve this. To continue this way after we succeeded would honestly improve the world, since L took on challenging jobs, using his instincts to settle on them. So, for him to suggest this wonderful prospect to me served as amazing, as well as flattering. It proved that he could completely rely on me now. His trust being placed on me meant a great deal to me.

Even with this temporary respite, though, the situation in Japan became direr with each passing day. Kira continued to kill criminals in a frustrating manner that seemed impossible to pinpoint an exact weapon. But, some of the criminals were only wanted for arrest for petty crimes, differing from the ones that committed more vile acts. All of us pondered over this mystery, and, unfortunately, lacked proper answers with which to figure it out. Perhaps Kira was trying to avert our attention to compel us to think that he had gone completely mad. Perhaps he purposely lured us to a trap.

Or perhaps—and this was what I thought—a second Kira existed.

Actually, I preferred to remain mute when it came to this theory; for one thing, it would have sounded ridiculous. L would have dismissed it completely, and the others would convey doubtful glances to me. As a skilled psychological analyst, I had every right to visualize that scene in my mind. On the other hand, they could have agreed with it, if I did possess the confidence to speak up; regretfully, I didn't at the time. This was, in essence, giving me terrible migraines. I enthusiastically shoved succeeding spoonfuls of ice cream into my mouth during meetings, occasionally donating a comment on L's figurations and assumptions. I felt useless, but my mind drew a blank. If this theory lying in the back of my mind seemed totally ludicrous, I would have nothing to fall back on.

A certain tape had altered my manner of determining my accuracy altogether when Watari advised us to watch Sakura TV, a channel I normally avoided. Gossip of celebrities filled it to the brim, mindless fodder for Demewaga and the people who worked under him to chew up and swallow. Such rubbish sickened me, and the channel in particular would have served as one of the last ones to ever who something that could be of value to us. Sakura TV, oddly enough, proved me wrong with this video tape, which started out with a heavily disguised voice claiming its rightful title as Kira. I gazed at the TV skeptically.

How could this idiot who video thus far appeared incredibly disorganized have possibly murdered thousands of criminals?

The answer to this came in the form of the owner of the crackling voice assuring that he/she would promptly kill a newscaster...for no reason as far as I could discern. And when this anchor did slump over on his desk, I immediately speculated.

"What if this Kira is an imposter?" I inquired. "What if the killing of this news anchor is a mere scare tactic?"

The others scarcely knew how to respond and helplessly turned their eyes to L.

"That is a good speculation...but for now, let's watch the rest of the tape." He said these last few words with a desperate urgency of which I had hardly heard from him before.

Somewhat impatient, I focused on the television once again, my questions incessantly creating a furious whirlpool within the depths of my mind. Prior to the tape I currently studied, I doubted that we had ever identified such sloppy work from Kira. That killer seemed to know what his next objectives were every step of the way. This potential fake, however, had far less cunning and less precise craftiness than the original. As the possibly second Kira spoke in his or her masqueraded voice, I heard L tell everyone, "This broadcast must be stopped before there are any more victims!"

"I'll get Sakura TV's number!" Matsuda offered, practically leaping toward the telephone due to his eagerness to help. Being one of the youngest members in the force, he usually dealt with his elders admonishing him after each error in judgment on his part. But, really, he wanted to be useful as much as I did.

At the same moment that Matsuda dialed the channel's number, Aizawa extracted his cellphone from his pocket to contact one of his friends who worked there. I anxiously watched the video to at least feign composure while all this commotion stirred around me. For once in my life, I sensed genuine fear grip my heart tightly, nearly wrenching it. Sweat broke out along my brow, and I tapped my fingers against my knees at a much more rapid rate than normal. I despised this emotion and wished it would vanish at once; the ascending suspense had proceeded to unnerve me. Worse still, the calling attempts failed dismally.

"The line's busy," Matsuda informed, regarding Sakura TV.

"My friend has his cellphone turned off," Aizawa added.

Placidity for me increased in difficulty to have at my disposal, my pulse now racing as quickly as a track runner trained for the Olympics. I also observed that another task force member, Ukita, wore a furious expression on his face. He was becoming impatient, more so than everyone else, when it came to the tape still running. I was aware that he knew the necessity of forcing Sakura TV to remove it from the air; what shocked me, though, came in the form of him abruptly rising to his feet.

"Dammit, then I'm just going to have to go over there and stop it myself!" Ukita declared as he sped out the door without so much as a warning.

Matsuda called out his name to stop him, but to no avail. That man had, sadly enough, foolishly placed his life on the line just to abet this case...or at least this situation. I sighed, digging my spoon into my bowl of cherry garcia to eat my annoying terror and arising ideas away. The ideas, however, pounded within my mind like a feverish hand knocking determinedly on a door. We were facing a hazardous emergency here, and I felt the instinct to act.

"I'm going out there, too."

After my terse announcement, I prepared to vacate the room when L, his voice tinged with concerned rage, barked an order.

"Utako-san, I have no choice but to tell you to stay here!"

Shocked, I turned away from the doorway to face my brother; according to daily custom from him, he never raised his voice, not even a decibel. Yet here he was forcibly commanding me to sit and watch while a man risked his life. Not only that, but he sounded as though his cool, collected calm had somewhat eroded, too.

"But, I feel like I h—"

"She's right," Aizawa interrupted me. "Why the hell are we just sitting here when—?"

Even he got cut off when a news anchor announced, "This just in! Someone is reported to have collapsed in front of Sakura TV!"

The image of Ukita's lifeless body that lay inches away from the station's door haunted all of us, especially Aizawa, who knew him as a colleague for quite some time. Despite the fact that Watari had bestowed to us false IDs and emergency belts two months earlier, the two items weren't enough to save Ukita. Numb from utter incredulity at our loss, I managed to stiffly walk back to my seat without stumbling.

"Where do you think you're going?" I heard L inquire very quietly as Aizawa tried to leave our headquarters. An angry, bitter tirade broke out on the latter's part with an explanation that he needed to retrieve the rest of the Kira tapes.

L, his placidity now in its normal state, voiced his theory again only this time, he deduced that Kira might need just a face to kill.

"But, if that was true," I spoke up, "then we've been assuming that Kira needed two things to murder, not just one. Perhaps...there are two Kiras. As I said before, this one may be an imposter...however, the Kira we have known before this tape was far more cunning. They each possess different types of killing—that is all I am trying to say."

Silently listening to my contribution to this elaborate assumption, L nodded. "Perhaps that is indeed true...but we would need more evidence first."

"I understand," I murmured before returning to my analysis of these unfolding events. Luckily, no one else had heard the two of us speak what they would have considered nonsense.

After all, Ukita's death still gave them internal shockwaves of fear.

L addressed his theory in more detail to Aizawa, who appeared more incensed by the second. His frustration grew to be too much for him to bear as he grasped my brother's shoulder, steadfastly refusing to let go.

"I understand your feelings," L told him, now sounding too collected to be believable, "but please try to control yourself right now. Ukita-san is dead...if you go over there and lose your life too, Aizawa-san..."

And he shook uncontrollably, as if he suffered a horrific seizure. His hands held on so desperately to his also trembling leg that I could see his veins popping up for all to take note.

We knew just how nightmarish this situation had become when L tried to conceal his anxiety, too.

The ice cream trickling down my throat seemed to clot into an enormous lump from witnessing such terror and agony from everyone on this force. All seemed lost, and my optimism drained away, when it usually never failed...at least concerning this case. Something occurred at Sakura TV, though, that made me change my mind about what I deemed to be our failure. I impelled my ears to become deaf to the eerie Kira tape up to this abrupt moment. When a police van slammed through the sheet of glass doors, which broke into thousands of jagged shards, relief washed over me.

Someone had bravely gone to the headquarters to stop the video.

We didn't know who this self-sacrificing personage was until Mr. Yagami called L and informed him that he had managed to get the tapes, as well as forcing Demewaga to remove the atrocious video from the air. Later returning to our headquarters out of breath, Mr. Yagami gave the tapes to our leader. I, for one, couldn't believe that despite his condition, he aggressively drove one of the police vehicles into the Sakura TV building. Kira (or second Kira) could have killed him, or, if he was fortunate enough to evade that, his heart could have fallen into cardiac arrest. But, even though he appeared weary and haggard, he had pulled it off. He also recovered forensic evidence in the form of the envelope in which the tapes had originally arrived to the station. With his tasks accomplished, Yagami was told to rest while L vowed to watch the other tapes. Meanwhile, I relaxed in my chair, content.

Ruefully, my emotional peace scarcely lasted, much to my inevitable disappointment. L discussed with us regarding his extended theory now involving two Kiras and his plans in arranging a position for none other than Light Yagami on the force. Even though this was probably stemming from his desire to keep the younger Yagami under his intense surveillance, I still fretted over dour possibilities. Bluntly, I worried over our lives, though I pretended to agree with L's decisions.

"I see where you're coming from, Ryuzaki," I had softly stated. "With Light on the team, this could reduce his chances of being Kira by a significant margin."

"Exactly as I said before," he replied evenly, as if he suspected me of lying when I coincided.

And he wasn't the world's greatest detective for nothing.

I had flat-out lied without a decent rhyme or reason for doing so. Perhaps it was genuine concern for a sibling's death. Or perhaps it was just trying to prove my worth in this hellish, creepy investigation of a murderer who could also control people before they die. Honestly, I found myself in the uncomfortable position of endeavoring to please my brother, abandoning my own morals and beliefs in the process. When I realized this, I was ashamed of myself and sensed my independence slipping through my fingers like sand. Then again, my age drearily stated the fact that I was still a mere girl, however much of an adolescent I was. I had figured that I knew the ways of the world like the back of my hand, when I really hadn't a clue.

On the afternoon following the major discussion among ourselves, Light entered the hotel as soon as his college dismissed classes for the day. He heartily shook hands with L once he stepped into the room, listening to us give our introductions.

"I'm Miyazawa," I told him politely, but it was a stiff, cold politeness with which I delivered and carried myself. Light looked my way as he had done with the other members. My distrust for him increased when our eyes met, for behind his expertly bestowed warmth lay something dark and sinister. His brown eyes may have sparkled, though they contained an icy quality that I loathed. His entire countenance came off as friendly to the more blissfully unaware of us, but I knew the truth. I even saw it.

With this aside, we promptly carried out our business, though L did the explaining for the most part. After this brief conversation, he implored of Light to sit down and take a look at all the videos the second Kira had created. The far too clever boy then contributed his thoughts on all these poorly crafted videos while ensuring to mention that this appeared to be from a different Kira.

"You would say that," I muttered moodily, hoping no one would eavesdrop. On the contrary...

"Hm? What was it, Miyazawa?" Light inquired, his too innocent eyes staring into mine again. To say the least, this trifle action unnerved me, but I dared not show it, not in front of this (I _knew _to be) demented freak.

"Nothing," I said rather grudgingly. I had to be on my guard the next time I said things like that.

L proceeded to suggest that Light play the part of Kira by making a video in response to the other Kira's videos that groveled disgustingly for attention. Of course, the (how do I phrase this delicately?) despicable murderer—he had to be, in my opinion—went in the affirmative with his answer. What happened next threw the vast majority of us for a loop...except me, oddly enough.

The second Kira aired yet another video thanking Kira for responding, the eagerness oozing out of it.

"I will do as you say," the once again jumbled voice continued after graciously, ever so graciously, granting Kira gratitude. "I want to meet you, Kira. I don't think you have the eyes, but I won't kill you. Don't worry."

Out of the corner of my eye, I espied Light breaking out in feverish perspiration. Was a certain someone, I dare say, nervous? Inwardly, I burst into cruel laughter at his expense, a side of me I would conceal from the world, if necessary.

"We can confirm each other when we meet by showing our shinigami."

These words profoundly affected us listeners. Aizawa, Mr. Yagami, and Matsuda wore shocked expressions, Light sweated even more, and...

...A horrific scream startled us all, followed by the clattering of a chair.

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**A/N: Clearly the worst cliffhanger in the history of cliffhangers. Since all of you are DN fans, you probably know what happens next (sighs). But, yeah, Light's one sweaty guy, isn't he? I think he ran out of Old Spice. XD And L, aw poor guy. When I looked at that panel when he was clutching his knee VERY tightly, I was like, "aw!" Because we all love L, am I right?**

**300 HITS, WOOOOT! This, I don't know when this will be updated, but it won't be too long after this weekend, I promise. Thanks to everyone who has faved and/or reviewed this thus far. It makes me as happy as a clam...if clams could be happy, that is. That even possible? XD**


	8. Reluctance

**A/N: Hey, it's me again, here with an updated chapter of my story! There's going to be a bit more humor in this one, though V certainly objects to the humor. You won't BELIEVE what V has to do in this one! XD**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Death Note, but I still own V and the randomness that will ensue toward the middle of the chapter.**

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**Chapter 8: Reluctance**

Our heads swiveled simultaneously toward the source of the abrupt noise that had sent shivers down our spines and gave us cause for worry. Overcome with shock, L sat frozen on the floor, his incredulous black eyes ogling at the screen blaring in front of him. A trace of fear showed in those eyes, as well. Never had I seen my brother afraid of anything before. Usually, he emitted a brave, courageous aura that proved he could handle any threatening situation. To observe that lost, if only for a moment, was extremely disconcerting.

"Shinigami...? Are we supposed to accept the existence of such a thing...?" he managed to gasp out, which I assume implied that the supernatural negatively awed him.

"I'm sure they don't exist," I assured him.

As I mentioned before, I had suspected the paranormal playing a key role in the Kira killings.

The fact that this second Kira referenced shinigami, death gods in English translation, convinced me even further. However, if I so much as stated that conclusion, the members of the task force would deem me insane, and Light would kill me simply due to the fact that I guessed too accurately.

In fact, I heard him voice his agreement with me too enthusiastically, as if he really wanted to butter me up like a limp piece of toast. As if I would ever fall for his tricks! I barely suppressed the urge to glare at him as I listened more attentively to the theories tossed about.

At one point, L suggested that the second Kira seemed to allow his/her emotions be in control due to the desire to meet Kira directly. This sounded like it could describe an obsessed fanatic, which I would say was a feminine quality. For example, whenever I had flipped on the television before the case, I would notice teenage girls screaming for the latest teen sensation band. Yes, it was these girls my age that lacked lives as they idolized and adored male celebrities from afar. I went out on a limb and said that second Kira's sex was indeed female.

"I would suggest all of you to lewd on that," I proposed gravely. "Obsession is more up girls' ally than it is a man's. Sure, these videos could be made by a man, but I do believe that the second Kira might crave attention of the affectionate sort."

I swore that Light's shoulders trembled slightly from laughter, signaling that he immediately dismissed my assumption. Resolving to catch him in the act, I pretended to clear my throat and say, "Light, I believe you doubt my guessing strategy. May I ask why?"

"It just seems a little early to be jumping to conclusions, don't you think, Miyazawa?"

He injected slight sardonic attitude into his voice that made my blood boil out of raging fury. Of course, I was never one to anger as easily as that.

"I apologize, but I was only throwing the possibility out there."

"Hey, I thought it made sense, Utako!" Matsuda chimed in to encourage me.

I appreciated him vouching for me, but I felt confident in my analysis. L, however, actually took Light's side on this, and I wondered why.

"Light-kun does have a point, Miyazawa-san. Until we actually have a suspect within our grasp, we don't know for certain what sex the second Kira is."

This seemed harsh, truthfully told; most would have sensed belittling betrayal. But, I held my ground by concluding, "All I'm saying is what I believe is true. You don't have to agree with me. However, I do not ask to be corrected."

That was the first time I ever articulated any words that came off as coldly enraged during the investigation. Maybe it was my pride that had done it in for me or maybe my weariness, but one thing remained absolute. I despised the disdain of others, no matter what form it took. It compelled me to feel as though I served as a mere babysitter's client in this force and not an adolescent prodigy. Meanwhile, the others spent the rest of the time brainstorming ideas regarding the tapes and the second Kira. Unfortunately, my pride had been sorely damaged, so that I merely brooded.

After the meeting, L inquired, "Are you all right, V? You seem irritated."

"It's a lack of sleep," I lied, sighing wearily. "I merely require rest."

And as I shut my door, I questioned when it came to the case strengthening our bond.

Thankfully, my lack of sleep resulted in my practically childish brooding and when I finally did receive the recommended eight hours of sleep for once in my life, my horrific mood dissipated. So, on the next day, I ensured to prepare myself for another discussion. I even cheerily bode a good morning to L, who sat crouched near his laptop and eating cake as usual.

"Good morning to you, too," he replied blankly. "I see that your mood has improved."

"Yes, it has. But, I was curious... May I have some of your cake?"

"No."

On that note, my day began splendidly, though soured once Light arrived after the other task force members. I had managed to forgive him for the day before but only just.

Today's meeting had to do with a particular diary page, which looked rather strange.

For one thing, one to two sentences were what the individual entries consisted. More essentially, an entry for the thirtieth of May mentioned something about confirming the shinigami at a Giants game. Very strange indeed—I was almost baffled by them. However, what truly grabbed my attention was the manner in which the entries were written...seemingly by a female hand, judging from feminine activities and observations explained on the page.

"I still think Kira is a girl...," I started out before glimpsing the bored expressions of Light and Aizawa, "but that's not important right now. So, we all agree the entry on the thirtieth of May is important, right?"

I know it must have come off as a stupid question, but the others nodded in the hopes of hearing a decent opinion from me.

"Well, the twenty-fifth of May seems conspicuous. Sure, it's just notebooks, but what kind? They could possibly be murder weapons," I finished, not wishing to hog any more of this vital talk than I had to.

Bingo. Light stiffened (though not too much) when I stated this. Who knew, though? He could have gotten a backache from standing in one spot too long.

"That almost sounds reasonable, but that couldn't be it," Aizawa mentioned skeptically.

"Nonetheless, it is a possibility," L calmly stated, which most definitely surprised me.

I would elaborate more on the conversations if I controlled time; it must be said with regret, however, that I severely lack in it. With that out in the open, I will summarize what occurred to the best of my ability. Storytelling, even relating a true one, was never my forte.

By the end of the conversation, Light had volunteered to go to Aoyama to investigate this business concerning the second Kira. Matsuda opted to set off for that location as well, probably his way of informing that he would contribute as much as he could. But, L, sadly enough, couldn't be bothered to bestow him his entire respect. In the mean time, I ate more of my Neapolitan ice cream to bask in my contentment.

And then my brother had to go and tell all of us to dispose all the photographs we had in our possession. My spoon nearly toppled from my hand. He couldn't possibly imply the one I kept from childhood...could he?

Later that night, once I heard L hanging up the phone on someone, I perched on my bed in complete and utter misery. The photo of Mello, Matt, and me, the last memento of my life at Wammy's, was in my grasp. I traced the smiles over and over with my finger. What if I forgot what my friends looked like after this? I could scarcely bear it.

L strode into the bedroom just then, taking note of my depressed countenance.

"I honestly don't want to destroy this photo, L," I told him in a flat, monotone, one of which I used whenever I was at my most wretched. "My friends are very dear to me, if you must know."

"I do," he confessed while leaning against the doorway, "but you have to get rid of it. It's for safety reasons, and, as I said years ago, I—"

"Don't want to put my life at risk," I finished dully. "I know, L. But, this was a memory and...I don't want to give it up."

"It's not as though you won't see them again. You will. Now..."

"I know." I sighed deeply in a lamenting manner, squeezed my eyes shut, and ripped the photo into smithereens.

When I forced myself to open my eyes, I saw the shredded pieces lay strewn across the carpet, appearing almost like the scattered ashes of my memory. Yet no reaction stirred me nor did I even feel my heart sink. I was emotionlessly numb, gazing mindlessly at a particular fragment of the photo, one that portrayed a portion of Matt's goggles. All the while silence oppressed me, which L didn't break until minutes (or hours) had elapsed.

"Don't think of that simple photograph too much," he advised. "It's only for the best."

"Of course," a detached voice I could nearly discern as my own replied. Destroying that photo spiraled me into an alien, far-off location of sorts. I exhaled in order to gradually bring myself back to reality, reassuring myself that I didn't need that picture; I didn't need that tie to Wammy's House.

After all, it was just a despicable orphanage with deplorable, sinfully jealous orphans.

Stepping nearer toward me, L told me of what his plans for tomorrow were. "I told Matsuda that you will go to Aoyama tomorrow as well. You are just as much an asset to the force as the rest of the members. And I know how always eager you are to help."

I smiled wryly. "That's true...but how am I going to look inconspicuous?"

"I doubt you will be too fond of this idea to say the least."

"What is it?" I asked drearily, my smile fading as quickly as it had come.

"You will pose as Light's girlfriend, while trying to find who you think could be a suspect."

Balancing myself on the bed with my hands, I managed to prevent myself from ungracefully falling onto the floor. I could hardly tolerate Light's company during our meetings, but to go undercover and do this—the urge to vomit came in the form of bile rising to my mouth. Normally, I was never this queasy to the point of actually doing something like that. Luckily, I stopped the bile with my tongue just in time.

L coolly registered my ruefully evident shock before continuing, "V, I am aware you highly distrust Light. But, whatever differences you have with him must be put aside in order for us to move on with the investigation. Is that understood?"

"I suppose," I said resignedly, displeased with his abrupt strict tone at the moment. In some ways, he still treated me like a child, despite what I informed him earlier on in the case.

Much to my agony, there was more that L had to divulge, as if the direct order of masquerading as Light's girlfriend wasn't humiliating and degrading enough.

"I asked Watari to bring some casual women's wear over from the store, as well as an accessory and"—and I swore he smirked lightly here—"some cosmetics."

It took all the will power I possessed inside me to keep my jaw from dropping open. I would have to surrender my hooded sweatshirt, my untouched by womanly make-up face, and my dignity for one terrible day of "investigating." Looking the part of an average teenage girl (which I certainly didn't appear as, by any means) served as pure torture.

Of course, while I digested all this startling information, Watari entered just then. Wonderful.

"I have the items you requested, L," he briskly said before setting a shopping bag down on the floor—the bag that would contain those ghastly, feminine accessories.

"Thank you, Watari. That will be all."

After Watari left, I cautiously approached the bag, which I treated as though it was a rabid animal that could infect me whenever it wished. L, though, resolved to put me out of my misery by fishing two items out the bag first.

"Which should you have?" he mused, but I could promptly tell he wasn't taking this situation seriously. "This lovely pink purse or the black leather one? Decisions, decisions."

Rolling my eyes to display my disenchantment toward his mockery, I calmly said with a tinge of sarcasm, "I don't need you to advise me on female items, thank you."

L placed a finger to his bottom lip while his smile grew, a gesture he did to suppress potential bouts of laughter. "I apologize, V. I forget that I am no woman by any means."

"Thus your insensitivity. I'll take the black leather purse, if you don't mind."

He tossed the desired purse my way; I caught it on a reflex. Proceeding to remove the cosmetics from the bag, he feigned amazement. Of course, I merely rolled my eyes again and kindly asked him to give me the damn make-up already, so that my suffering would conclude soon.

"As you wish," he replied, still trying to fight laughter.

I then reluctantly peeked into the shopping bag in order to gaze upon the clothes I would end up wearing during my undercover mission. As it turned out, the outfit proved to be to my liking. Khaki capris, a denim jacket, a simple white T-shirt, and tennis shoes made up this decent ensemble. If I had possessed a finer eye toward fashion in general, I would even venture to exalt on its perfection.

"I thank whoever controls the universe that you didn't tell Watari to buy a revolting short skirt for me," I replied, studying my new clothes one last time before placing them back in the bag.

L merely replied, "Well, you did say you weren't a huge fan of incest."

I thanked the heavens above that this was a joke.

Proceeding to take on a more somber approach, my brother told me the following: I could bring my cellphone with me on this excursion, pinpoint the likely candidate for a suspect, and use the camera on my phone to snap a digital photo. This sounded agreeable enough to me, considering I would feel like a female James Bond. It was empowering to enact this simple duty to force the investigation even further. However, I knew that Light would possibly, if not definitely, serve as a major obstacle preventing us from achieving that goal.

Yet, when I confided in L regarding this, he seemed genuinely defensive.

"Light-kun has contributed immensely to this cause," he informed me, his voice tinged with what I can only describe as vehemence, however faint. "I am hoping that I can narrow the odds of him being Kira."

A glimmer of doubt in his eyes almost eluded my peripheral vision, but I caught it just in time.

"How can you be so sure?"

He sighed wearily, a habit that he had started to adapt a while back. "I'm not...but you never know."

With his cryptic words, he promptly ended the discussion and insisted I retire to bed before I could think on things too much. This deterred me, yet I trusted his judgment.

Displeased with the irrevocable fact I would wear make-up on my mission, I half-heartedly applied it in the bathroom. Green shadow speckled my eyelids, thick mascara caused my lashes to appear false, and blush didn't flatter me in the slightest. Indeed, with all these so-called beauty items on my face, I looked like a grotesque porcelain doll. If I had despised my appearance prior to this, I loathed it like a detested rival now. Ugliness was all I saw in my reflection in the bathroom mirror, my dejected self gazing blankly back at me. A brief shadow of a thought passed through my mind, consisting of a meditation about what Matt would think of me if he espied me in this wretched state. He would probably find me unattractive in the worst way, considering he preferred "cute" girls.

Would anyone even place me in that category?

I ignored these thoughts before they could torture me any further and lower my self-esteem to the breaking point. Really, I didn't need a member of the opposite sex to love me. As I said a while ago, I wanted to elude love's suffocating grasp if I could help it. I had been disappointed enough times in my life without having this on my plate. So, wearing a driven expression, I strode to the main room to give my customary morning salutations to L. His eyes widened slightly once he noticed my poorly applied cosmetics, though wisely chose to not say a word about them. I would have felt highly irritated and even offended if he had done so.

A breakfast of chocolate ice cream later, I set off for Aoyama in my stylish outfit that I betted Light would be surprised to see me wear. Of course, I could tell the ignorant young man tended to lean toward the sexist side of things, much to my disgust. For some reason that I cannot begin to explain, I could tell that Light basically saw women as a bunch of inane, quickly fooled dolls.

Unfortunately for him, I was far from what he deemed a typical girl. As I strode up to him with Matsuda by my side, I even sensed disappointment emitting from him. He was keenly aware as to how sharp-minded I was.

"Hello, Light," I greeted in a falsely sanguine tone I never used on him.

Light, aware of what part I had to play in this whole charade, grabbed my hand to feign youthful love toward me. This reminded me of that moment ten years ago when I timidly held Matt's hand for a few seconds. I had enjoyed the feel of his hand, but definitely not Light's now. Grasping his hand was like holding onto a leech.

He proceeded to drag me to his group of friends who chatted carelessly away. Great, I didn't think hanging out with the popular crowd was part of the deal. Associating with others greatly disconcerted me.

"Hey, guys," Light greeted casually to these blissful teenagers, "this is my cousin Taro."

Pointing to Matsuda, he waved a very convincing hand over to the also socially awkward rookie cop, who tentatively stepped up beside him.

"Who's the pretty girl?" a (I knew to be sarcastic) voice asked, the question coming from a boy. Of course, only boys possessed the ability of biting cynicism.

"This is my girlfriend, Utako," Light answered, treating me as though he owned me, what with the manner in which he forced my hand into the crook of his arm. "And I wouldn't suggest you boys to steal her away from me either."

The male portion of the clique erupted into laughter, which I do believe was at my expense.

However, I needed to believe in my act as an undoubtedly unwise girl who had a simple mind. I pushed giggles from deep inside my chest to be convincing, though they sounded like tinkling bells. Self-consciously, I coyly joined the female part of the group to attempt social interaction, inwardly hoping I did the role justice.

"Hi, my name's Aki!"

"And my name's Tami."

"Call me Miss Yoko please!"

These girls that sauntered by me proved to be rather kind and affable for members of the privileged popular. But I could hardly determine if they faked it or not. In a world filled with falseness and lies, I would never truly know for sure.

Regretfully, I was placed under constant scrutiny of the girls, who gave me unabashed critiques of how I had applied my cosmetics. They hurled civil suggestions at me, such as the recommendation of putting gray or lavender shadow on my eyelids to accentuate my eyes, which they praised. Aki mentioned that the mascara made me a bit freakish. That made the two more conservative girls protest what they deemed to be harshness. As for the blush, they informed to place enough on so that my cheeks would glow, but not so much as to make them appear garish. I know it's odd that I speak of make-up now; honestly, though, that was what most of the conversation contained. Most of the time, I remained on the receiving end of things, nodding and smiling to show my contrived attentiveness.

All the while I sensed a dark, malevolent force floating above us, which I vaguely suspected of being of supernatural origin. Even though I had thought the fantasy of paranormal activity connected to the Kira killings, I presently tossed them aside. Surely, it couldn't come to something as random and unexpected as that. Perhaps this alleged eerie presence resulted of my paranoia of participating in walking with a crowd. My claustrophobia had gotten the better of me for once, according to my assumptions. But, did I honestly have the phobia, though?

A sight vital to the case nabbed my attention as we passed a mere restaurant; however, a girl, obviously disguised (obvious to me anyway) ogled directly at Light. Most people would have dismissed her as infatuated, but I contrasted from most. Besides, she seemed that and more. I retracted my cellphone from my bag and quickly snapped a photograph of the girl.

"Got you now, you obsessed twit," I muttered under my breath, though Yoko overheard me.

"What are you muttering about, Utako?"

Flashing what I figured must be a cute grin, I replied, "Oh, you won't believe who I just took a picture of!"

I put on a forced air of condescendence as I giggled with the girls over the photo. May God have mercy on my soul.

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**A/N: V and Light together?!? Whoa, even for undercover purposes, that's just blech! I apologize to the Light fans out there, but I just don't like the dude. But, he's fun to hate, though. You got to admit that. And, hahaha, V wearing make-up?!? Enjoy it while it lasts, guys, for it's not happening ever again. I'm serious about that. So...yeah, I'm not sure that this was the best way for V finding out that Misa might be (is) second Kira, but I was short on options. There's really not much you can exploit with Death Note--it's pretty thorough.**

**Till Friday, guys, R&R! In the mean time, Thunder Can Destroy Roses will be updated tomorrow, in case anyone's interested.**

**Oh, and P.S: British slang is awesome!**


	9. First

**A/N: Welcome to yet another chapter! Well, originally, this chapter was called "Shockwave", but I thought it was a crappy title, so I changed it. A lot of firsts happen in this chapter, one of them being V making an error on her thinking for the _first _time. I'll elaborate at the end.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own anything, and I made up quotes, since I can't remember the anime details THAT well.**

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**Chapter 9: First**

When I returned to headquarters and divulged the digital photo to L, he seemed to pore over each individual pixel before saying a word. He held my cellphone in a peculiar manner, so that it dangled helplessly between two of his fingers.

"And are you sure that she was looking at Light?" he inquired, still staring at the picture.

"She practically drooled over him like a lovesick schoolgirl so yes, I am certain," I replied in my usual calculating tone, wiping off the hideous make-up with tissue paper. I vowed to not wear it for the rest of my life...unless I lay on my deathbed and was forced to.

Silence pressed again, my brother nodding ever so slightly. I wondered if he implied agreement or that he maintained focus on my cellphone.

I tapped my fingers on my right leg while discarding my denim jacket with my other hand. Today had been a long day consisting of mindless co-ed speech amongst the three girls who had so ardently tired to drag me into the conversation. Of course, I refused, thus insensitively crushing their hopes for friendship. Doubtless that L would permit me to call them even if I had obtained their phone numbers; security nearly consumed him. And I preferred the company of my two best friends anyway. Oh, to think of _them_...

"I do believe that I have every right to trust your skillful judgment, V."

Surprised to hear this from L's lips, I turned toward him albeit a stiff rotation of my body. How could he possibly invent a comment like that when he clearly possessed the superior mind?

Sighing wearily, a tiredness sinking into my bones, I leaned back in the comfy chair in which I sat.

"I thank you for the compliment, but it is I who should commend you on your judgment," I countered lethargically, actually desiring an eight hours' sleep again. Walking can certainly leave one out of breath, especially a mostly secluded girl like me.

"Take credit when it is due," L told me, but he sounded rather amused from my reaction. No matter, tomorrow would be a much more rewarding prospect.

"If you tell me to pose as Light's girlfriend again, I'll kill you," I threatened idly before dozing off.

Three days later, the meeting seemed tedious, though I admittedly sensed my patience ebbing. I wanted to see Light Yagami behind bars where he belonged. Being on the sidelines while realizing how many victims died unnerved me. The strong instinct to act resonated as clearly than ever as the second Kira announced in the recent video that she had finally met with Kira.

"This isn't good!" Matsuda proclaimed.

"Yes. Who knows what destruction the two of them are capable of, now that they have met each other? Think of the deaths that could occur," I entreated, sipping green tea with a leaf included.

Light decided to add his thoughts. "Well, maybe the second Kira is just a sidekick. Maybe his...or her...intelligence is barely existent. Which, of course, would give cause for Kira to take advantage of the opportunity of another one like him—it's simple, really."

Of course the younger Yagami would theorize his opinions of Kira's elaborate thought processes like that. He would dare to possess the nerve and the wit. I sighed as I politely spit the leaf out into a napkin.

However, L rejected this guess. "We don't know for sure if the Kiras have joined up yet."

The others' (except Light's) jaws dropped in slight awe if the brilliant detective's alluring mind. L continued on to say that up to the twenty-third of this month, they had hardly united, acting as one yet, that the possibility of that happening was barely there. He even suggested that the police should allow immunity to second Kira, in the event that she proved disloyal to her all-powerful master after all. It was a good plan, but was it enough to lead to Kira's arrest? I doubted that, despite my brother's proposal. I had seen for myself the lovestruck, adoring blue-gray eyes of that girl in the restaurant. She would be the type to never tell or "squeal" on Kira, who she perceived as a potential lover. The poor girl was so foolish, so eager to rush headlong into what she deemed love. If they had a full-on, face-to-face encounter yet, the real Kira was sure to use her for his own personal gain.

Later that night, the task force members remained longer than usual, for they noticed L busying himself in watching the tapes from the twenty-second at Aoyama.

"Do you plan on watching these videos all night?" Aizawa inquired, staying just two steps back from L's chair.

"Yes. There's a possibility of the second Kira contacting Kira on the twenty-second. So, I will also have Mogi-san tail Light, who doesn't completely know that he's on the force."

"Are you dismissing us for the night?" Mr. Yagami asked, though I could tell he was grappling the urge to inquire of L as to whether he still suspected his son or not.

"Yes, get a good night's sleep, everyone."

"I doubt Ryuzaki will," I heard Aizawa mutter on his way out.

Matsuda walked slowly by him. "But, you know what? I saw him sleep in the same, exact position he's in now, I swear!"

The last words I eavesdropped on before the door closed were, "How could you even tell?"

I plopped myself down on the couch next to L, who didn't seem to mind my presence, since he probably lacked Watari's. Watari had been ordered by my brother to stay at police headquarters in case any new developments unfolded. Judging by how quickly (and how sluggishly) the case was moving, our caretaker would find himself as industrious as ever.

Of course, seeing this video that L watched implied that I saw myself wandering the city streets.

"You really did a poor job on looking natural when it came to your face," L commented as he bit into a doughnut. "It's almost as though you're a different species."

"I thank you from the bottom of my heart," I responded sarcastically while he chuckled in a near whisper. How many times did I have to be reminded that yes, my feminine skills could use some improvement? Leaning lazily against the back of the couch, I suppressed a yawn, which spoiled the brooding look I had aimed for.

"Perhaps you should go to bed."

"Perhaps you should as well," I retorted with a scolding determination. "You're the one with much darker bags under your eyes."

L paid most of his attention to the television screen, as if he intentionally feigned indifference toward my statement.

"Fine. Be that way, but once a doctor gives you the diagnosis of insomnia, you'll regret not heeding to my advice."

I proceeded to summon my acting abilities to do my best impression of my brother with his quietly even monotone. "Oh, why didn't I listen to V? She is my wise sister who always knows best."

"Well, little sister—" and L still made no conscious effort to divert his gaze from the video he studied—"you're not the one who has solved over a hundred cases in a span of nine years, are you?"

An awkward silence filled the space of room to the point of making me feel like a small fish in a big—no, _gigantic_—pond.

"No...to tell the truth. But, if concern for my brother—"

He cut me off. "I'm perfectly healthy, V. Now, preserve your energy, don't dare to overexert yourself, and _get to bed_."

I sighed moodily and muttered, "You have ensured to become our mother."

All these obscure moments between my brother and I combined to create our sibling bond between us. It's funny how quirky my conversations with L could become.

My sleep stumbled onto a malevolent path all on its own that night, something haunting and from my past. In my dream, a woman whose only traits I saw were her black hair and pallid hands stood by a crib, her curls barely brushing the smoothly hewn railing.

"Now, Vicky darling, we won't be gone long," the woman assured, her soft, gentle voice soothing and comforting the silent baby inside. "It's just a trip to the grocery store. We even decided that your big brother L will look after you while we're gone. He definitely is one who is older beyond his years."

The baby gazed knowingly up at her mother, though remotely looked troubled.

That baby knew, or seemed to know, of what would occur the day her mother calmly assured her that she and the father would come back shortly.

They would never come back.

Their car, a 1987 Jaguar model, would crumple at the front end due to an irresponsibly drive, brand-new Corvette crashing into it. The driver of the accursed sports car had decided to celebrate the moment he had it in his possession...by going to the downtown pub. Two people—two _victims_—were recovered at the scene of the accident: Jonathon and Lydia Lawliet.

Our parents. The reason I was aware of what truly happened came in the form of L telling me fourteen years ago, when I had been susceptible to a curious phase. The only time he told me, too; of course, he had looked slightly traumatized, though donned his emotionless mask again. Poor L.

"Mom?" I whispered, eventually sitting up in my bed. No mother existed in this bedroom. For all I knew, a mother never existed, a woman who could have baked cookies with me, go to the park with me, and told me bedtime stories. I lacked her and a father, which disheartened me, even though my brother still lived on.

A tear welled up in one of my dark eyes, and I furiously wiped at it. The past was the past; I had to release the fact that my parents died. At the time, I was a weak, defenseless baby who couldn't do anything to stop cruel fate. And as I glimpsed a shiny spot on the back of my hand where the tear lay, I knew I had to move on with my life, as well.

With that said, that was the very last time in my life I ever thought of my tragically deceased parents. The Kira case did consume us all, and time was of the essence. Besides, dwelling on what could have unfolded for me had I still lived with my parents would only torment me until death. That dreary morning I bid farewell to their memories as I hoped for a brighter future.

Later that afternoon, Light came to the usual daily meeting from To-Oh University. I often wondered how he managed to maintain his impeccable _A_s while he sat with us discussing Kira. Pinpointing the culprit to sheer dumb luck, I treated this with indifference every time. Today the supposedly last taped second Kira message arrived today, almost as soon as Light emerged from the corridor. We then speculated as to the second Kira's intentions from that message.

After analytically pondering over the second Kira's possible approach to Kira (if any such approach was made at all), L listened to Light's opinions.

"If I was Kira, I wouldn't do anything like you thought second Kira could do."

"Why is that?" L asked as he chewed on one of his doughnuts, which originated from the box from yesterday.

"If you're the real L, I would know your personality by now," Light answered a little too cleverly for his own good. "The real L would be cautious and avoid being televised at all times."

"He's right," I sighed glumly, swallowing liquid ice cream of the regular chocolate flavor. "He's described you perfectly, Ryuzaki."

"Yes, precisely, Miyazawa-san."

What became revealed in the conversation next was something rather disturbing, a curveball I would never have seen coming...yet almost ready for nonetheless.

Mr. Yagami approached his son with a concerned expression on his face, presumably resulting from hearing Light state "hypothetically" that he was Kira. At that moment, I glared at Light for a fraction of a second; how dare he put his father through this much emotional torture. Gray hairs grew more commonly on Yagami-san's head due to the stress of this case. And here was Light, killing criminals like most people would swat flies, right under his father's nose.

"Light," Mr. Yagami stated now, "I still don't like that you refer to yourself as Kira. Even if you're just making a point when you do say it, I'm uncomfortable with it."

Admittedly, Light did put on a rather intriguing act as a son humbled by his father's stern tone.

"I know. Sorry, Dad."

That word—would that even cut it? Light could apologize as often and as complacently as he wished, but I was still convinced that he was Kira, not just playing the part. Such palpable expressions I espied from him proved that he inwardly calculated what actions to execute, what right words to articulate to charm those around him. On the verge of wrapping the task force members around his finger, his plan flowed smoothly. This was enough to frustrate me.

Light continued with his explanation to his father as I diligently scooped more ice cream out of my Ben and Jerry's pint and into my bowl.

"I have to be honest with Ryuzaki if I want my name cleared. Besides, I'm trying to show that I'm _not _Kira."

He sounded very charismatic once he said this, as if he believed his own despicable.

Of course, he seemed to mollify his father. "I see where you're coming from now, Light."

"Thanks, Dad."

L stirred his cup of tea somewhat more slowly than usual. Through my lopsided strands of hair, I peeked at him worriedly. Did he...? But, no, it couldn't be possible.

Actually, I loathed it as possible that L could even think of considering what I suspected. Contemplating all these terribly morbid thoughts compelled me to tap my fingers against my jeans; it bothered me more than I had assumed.

"Light isn't Kira," L spoke quietly—too quietly. "At least, I don't want him to be. Because..."

A foreboding sense jabbered at me, as if something truly awful would be said should he finish that sentence.

"Light is my first friend."

He did _not _just permit those words to pass through his lips. My sometimes proud brother would never utter such a falsehood...right? A chill coursed through my body, a shockwave that nearly impelled me to tremble like a shaky leaf. However, my own pride saved me from that, an event that truly made me want to thank it for once. I sighed and sharpened my focus on Light; the evident shock on his face told me he didn't anticipate this from L either. But, if the real Kira lay deep within him, he would absorb these words as a bonus. He would turn them around and betray L if this was the case. So for my brother to confess this not only made him vulnerable, but made him look like a huge gambler. My anxieties promptly heightened. However, he couldn't possibly be telling the truth...right? I admit that this event marked the first time I was ever confused.

L meant what he said when it came to obtaining a first friend. All his life, he, too, had to overcome so much adversity and jealousy that his peers emitted. The other children ignored him, even teased him, thus dashing his hopes of building friendships. At some point, he had inevitably surrendered to social isolation, which he allowed to surround him. He wouldn't even bother to interact with my friends. For L to say that he saw Light as a good friend was clearly a desperate need for someone like him: a genius.

Or so my thought processes stated at the time.

Despite the fact that blood connected me to L, I couldn't help him with that. Apparently, siblings could hardly be permitted to be best friends, as well as family.

That night, I stood in front of the hotel windows, which displayed the beautiful Japanese night, bright neon lights and all. Headlights of rushing cars sped by, and I could discern that Tokyo never slept. I could sense L shuffling toward me.

"Is something wrong, V-chan?"

Oh, no. He never called me V-chan unless he read my dejected state like a book. His brotherly caring toward me compelled me to cry, which I could never do. I degraded myself once ten years ago by doing so, and I had vowed the night after L left Wammy's that I would conceal my emotions around all except allies.

Closing my eyes in meditation, as well as to block out my brother's face, I could hear the wind stirring outside whisper to me. I swore that it called my name while it muttered and murmured away. Oddly enough, that comforted me...slightly.

"I only have one thing I want to say," I whispered, similar to that if the sighing, lachrymose breeze. "No matter what happens or what decisions you make, I will support you one hundred percent. And I hope that your life, as well as mine, will improve with time after this case."

L appeared dissatisfied for a brief moment from this eloquently phrased answer. But then a small smile curved his lips, and he patted my dusky black head.

"It's good to hear that at least one person believes in me, even if it's my own sister."

Beaming in response, I turned away from the window to retire for the night, and I no longer felt sad.

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**A/N: OK, the mistake that V made was actually thinking that L meant what he said about Light being his first friend. It was also a mistake on my part originally writing this, though I figured that L lied. Just wasn't sure until I read Volume 13: How to Read the other day. So, I decided to make my faux pas into V's. Because, not even geniuses are perfect. OK, the dream sequence wasn't originally planned either, but I wanted everyone to kind of know who V's parents were...in my fic anyway. And, yeah, a little bit of foreshadowing toward the end, but I won't say where. XD**

**Thanks for reading this story to this point, everyone! Review! Will be updated on Sunday.**


	10. Intensity

**A/N: I know I said Sunday, but it's going to storm then. So, I about have to update today anyway. I'm kinda concerned that I'm updating too fast for you guys. XD But, hey, you all love this story, and I appreciate the love! XD So, I present chapter ten.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Death Note or any of its characters. I do own V still.**

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**Chapter 10: Intensity**

L had ensured to evade telling me of his agenda for the next day, so that he surprised me, as well as everyone else on the task force. He went incognito again at To-Oh University, where he encountered Light, and, later, a certain Misa Amane. She was one of Tokyo's adored and revered pop idols that graced the cover of seemingly every teen magazine in the country. A beloved celebrity in her own right, she also modeled as well as acted. I recall glimpsing the large, rather childish blue-gray eyes and flowing blond hair from such a magazine cover at a kiosk not too long ago. I doubted her talent, but what did I know? In retrospect, I cared less about frivolous pop culture and more about the case. Unfortunately, I sensed my detachment from the latter increasingly as the days wore into one another.

Then again, I was thankful that L hadn't given me the option of returning to To-Oh, considering the last ordeal of finding myself caught up in a crowd was terrible. Besides, he needed this opportunity to blend in, so that he could pinpoint the second Kira. This he did with unprecedented success since Misa Amane was under arrest and confined that very day. Once I reflected on the time I spent at Aoyama, I realized that she resembled closely to the girl I saw at the restaurant. In fact, I concluded, they were one and the same.

Still, we couldn't help but question L's tactics when it came to confining her.

It appeared as though Amane's body had been captured within a cocoon-like arrangement of cloth, her eyes concealed by a blindfold. Immobilized, she accused L of being a pervert in the loudest, most screechy voice I had ever heard. Could her singing voice have gained her that much notoriety? For, her speaking voice sounded agonizingly obnoxious to me. Yet, I could hardly stop myself in sympathizing with her. Obviously, Light (of course, I always suspected him of acting as Kira) had toyed with her emotions, which he abused to get what he wanted. What his desire was, however, remained a mystery to me. But, I assumed that the two of them had met up, the rich and famous girl yielding to the popular college student. To me, that seemed almost unheard of unless the girl was as tragically (and I hate to put it like this) stupid as Ms. Amane. Seeing her like this on a computer screen impelled me to think of Light as repulsive as ever. He would do everything in the world to obtain what he wished, even if it meant breaking hearts.

Speaking of that wretched boy, he volunteered to send himself into confinement as well, in order to "clear his name", he said. After much debating among the task force members (me, unsurprisingly, supporting the decision), L settled matters with his reluctant consent. Mr. Yagami also mentioned that he should be confined too, since he believed himself to be biased as he was Light's father. Even more hesitant, my brother eventually agreed to that suggestion, telling us that he saw no other way around this.

"Chief, are you sure about this?" Matsuda asked, his perpetually enthusiastic eyes losing their shine.

"Mr. Yagami, we're unsure as to how you'll put up with such miserable conditions as a confinement cell. What about your family?" I inquired, concerned for the older man.

Mr. Yagami sighed as he told all of us, "I thank all of you for your concern, but I feel that it's best for the case if I take myself out of the picture for a while."

Aizawa seemed rather angered by this, retaliating with, "Think of your family, Chief! You don't have to do this!"

But, Yagami-san's mind was made up; usually, he never took his word back either. Assuring all of us he would be fine, he left us for fifty days. These days seemed like decades as we wasted each one staring at surveillance footage of the three prisoners suffering. Aizawa, especially, detested this idea of observing them in their conditions, but no other choice proved available.

I often expected him to quit the investigation, yet he remained, opposing L's decisions but not objecting too abrasively either. Meanwhile, the days of confinement that Mr. Yagami, his son, and Amane were subjected to seemed to last forever. At one point, on day thirty-nine of their isolated imprisonments, we discussed what would happen next—or what _should _happen.

"Ryuzaki, this is ridiculous!" Aizawa scoffed, concernedly drifting his gaze between the Yagamis miserably depicted on the laptop. "Shouldn't you just clear their names? Kira has started killing again, so it can't be them!"

"Even if that is the case, we can't be entirely sure of it," L replied placidly, eating a slice of cake.

Matsuda merely listened to this conversation, though I noticed his face seemed to possess all the sympathy in the world for all three prisoners. I couldn't blame him, despite my own strong beliefs that Light and Misa belonged in their cells. Mr. Yagami, for all his martyr-like behavior, certainly did not. I personally felt as though L should have released him weeks ago.

"I can understand your thinking," I then turned to L, "but remember the incident concerning Light vehemently declaring his innocence four weeks ago? He seemed to have a befuddled look to his eyes, almost as if he has forgotten killing. That is to say, if he ever was Kira."

Contemplating this briefly, he proceeded to nibble on his cake again. "Mm, that did seem suspicious..."

For once, my brother seemed to falter as he trailed off and focused his attention on the three captives again. His pensive manner of sticking the tines of his fork in his mouth unnerved me slightly. What if Light transferred his murdering ability or whatever to an outside source? That would imply that the fool had deceived and yet didn't at the same time, simply due to his abrupt amnesia.

"He can't be lying, though," Matsuda brought up. "Light really did look like he meant what he said that day. Aizawa's right—we should just clear them."

"Not yet," L muttered as though he lost himself in a far-off location. "This could be just a temporary ceasefire, if you will. They could start killing again at any time. Just give me a few more days."

Almost another two weeks passed before L ruefully submitted to the fact that he must clear the alleged two suspects' names...for the time being. With that thought in mind, he released them and Mr. Yagami from confinement. However, he told Mr. Yagami to give a dramatic performance in which he attempted to kill Light, a test that would prove whether the college student was innocent or guilty. Due to the ineptness on Light's part to murder his own father (at least the boy hardly acted as cold-blooded as that...for some reason), he remained mostly innocent. L still harbored suspicion for him, though, and went to extremes. Rather reluctantly (or was it reluctance?), my brother handcuffed Light to him in order to obtain access to improved surveillance. This was also to ensure that Light didn't do anything to place himself in the murderer category again. I despised L's decision as much as he did, for our secret conversations would take an abrupt halt.

Misa ended up staying with us task force members, sadly enough. Her childish voice that acutely reminded me of a spoiled little girl irritated me profusely. At one point, it even penetrated my sleep when she shouted one morning at 2:00 A.M, "Hey, Utako-chan! Does Light-kun have to be chained to that Ryuzaki all the time?!? I couldn't sleep when I thought of my poor Light-kun suffering like that!"

In my heart of hearts, I bitterly damned her ten times over, exasperated at this pampered celebrity's mannerisms. Misa aside, the case steadily became more complicated due to Light's forgetfulness that seemed to arrive at an impromptu moment during the confinement. Frustration built, and tensions were high among everybody. They came to a head one particular afternoon.

L acted hopelessly brooding as he moodily snacked on his strawberry shortcake, almost as though he sulked like a bratty child. I noticed this during a "date" with Light that Misa insisted that she have. Perhaps L's lack of a significant other deterred him, though that couldn't have been possible. Still, I wondered what his issues consisted that hurled him into a listless state.

"What's wrong, Ryuzaki?" Light inquired. "Are you OK?"

"Actually, I'm rather depressed," my brother promptly murmured. "I thought you were Kira for so long, and now, this case seems hopeless. Why even bother?"

He said these sentences so dully that he truly did seem out of it. However, I thought it practically dumb that he should even want to throw in the towel, now that we had come so far. Apparently, Light possessed the same sentiments.

"Ryuzaki...," he started to say haltingly, in a warning tone of voice.

"Yes?"

The contact that Light's fist made with L's face sent the unfortunate detective spiraling toward the opposite end of the room. Misa, excitable as she was, shrieked and completely freaked out as she accidentally stepped on what remained of L's cake in the process.

"Ew!" She wrinkled her nose, for she had stated early on in the "date" that she detested cake, which she saw as fattening.

In the meant time, L took on a dizzy appearance as he told Light, "Ouch, that really hurt, you know."

The fight, in my opinion, proved ridiculous on both sides; L due to his childish pout and Light simply due to his Light...ness. Surely, the disagreement could have been resolved better than punches thrown and hateful words exchanged. But, that just sums up the male species.

"I don't think Ryuzaki will last with Light-kun beating him up," Misa said in a semi-concerned tone. But, since she was who she was, she didn't emit excess worry.

"Don't worry, Misa. I know my colleague well. He will defend himself, for he has the capability. Else, he wouldn't have been able to teach me his techniques."

"What do you mean by that?"

Misa understood my explanation as soon as L retaliated with an extremely high kick to Light's abdomen and with the darkly uttered words, "An eye for an eye, my friend."

Out of the corner of my ever observant eye, I noticed the celebrity's mouth drop open in astonishment. Of course she would judge on appearances when it came to my brother; then again, he was filled with surprises that always shocked the task force, sometimes even me. What surprised me at the current moment, though, was that L and Light were this willing to fight, despite the hindrance of the chain that connected them. During the apex of the fight, they held a brief conversation that just seemed almost pointless. L should have known his response would fuel Light's anger even more.

"Maybe...," he said slowly, assessing the furiously distraught boy perching across from him on the couch, "I wanted you to be Kira."

Impacting L's face again with his fist, Light aggressively pushed him around to the point that the entire couch toppled over. Really, the damage was devastating enough as it was.

A shattered potted plant dirtied up the carpet, framed pictures had fallen, and the whole living area looked as though an earthquake had sent intense waves. Though the combat between the two of them had admittedly intrigued me, I found that my patience gradually ebbed.

"Misa," I told her with a forced cheerfulness that resonated with sarcasm, "this fight is getting perfectly ridiculous. I'm about to call Yagami-san or Aizawa on them."

Luckily, the telephone ringing dashed any schemes of tattling on L and Light. The former wearily answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Ryuzaki, I got some good news!" Matsuda's voice could be heard from my vantage point. "Misa-Misa is number one in the polls in _Eighteen _this month!"

Rolling his dark, emotionless eyes slightly, my brother promptly hung up without a response to dignify the eager cop's excitement.

"What was that?" Light asked, rubbing his arm, presumably due to muscle tension.

"Nothing, just Matsuda being stupid again."

"When isn't he?"

I sighed as I slapped my forehead; these two would never learn unless I taught them myself. Vouching for Matsuda was the least I could do, after all.

"For your information, what Matsuda did was rather smart," I said in a cool, even tone. "I'm sure he was attempting to distract you two from your little skirmish. Well, here's my unbiased, totally neutral take on this. Ryuzaki-kun, I would suggest you stop talking about giving up—that's the last thing we want to do. Light...just stop being annoying for once please."

"That didn't sound very unbiased to me," Light snorted, but otherwise seemed to agree. I decided to then seize the opportunity to reveal my true opinion.

"I know, but that's the beauty of it," I beamed.

In a whiny, imploring tone, Misa insisted that we avert our attention to the "date", so that anger wouldn't rend us apart.

Too late.

To provide an implied cynicism to the remainder of this pointless ordeal, I made an entreaty.

"Are there any light topics any of you wish to contribute?"

"Utako, this is supposed to be a date between Light and Misa that we both attended for obvious reasons. It's not a diplomatic mission for the United Nations," L said dully.

"Yeah, Utako, this...date is rendered beyond repair, believe me," Light added.

I merely shook my head, though I provided no objections. "All right. We're too unenthused now. That makes three of us. Sorry, Misa."

"That's OK. At least I spent time with Light-kun," Misa purred demurely like a satisfied cat.

That night, I lied to the task force, who prepared to pull an all-nighter by informing them I was tired at 9:00. Of course, I never fell asleep at that time, but I had planned to write a letter addressed to both Matt and Mello. To humor the former, I extracted a postcard I had bought prior to the case. It depicted a beautiful cherry blossom tree swaying carelessly in the breeze with the light pink petals swirling like waltzing ballroom dancers. I hoped that they would appreciate the thought behind my selection. Another item I removed from my suitcase was a simple number two pencil; thing of it was, the words didn't come to me this time. Back at Wammy's, the scenery constantly inspired me to pen concealed song lyrics. Here, away from home, I could barely write "Dear Mello and Matt" without feeling utterly stupid.

For, beyond the introduction, how was I supposed to directly lie to them concerning my "vacation"? Evading to reveal the secret lineage I handled well over the years, but lying was a completely different story. Deviating from the truth would appease L (that is, if he allowed me to send the postcard anyway, which I highly doubted), though I would feel as though fate dealt me a moral blow. Thus, words could not come out onto the sleek paper of the postcard due to my devout belief that lying to friends served as sinful. Still, I had to tell Matt and Mello something, or else they could end their friendship with me at any time.

And I certainly couldn't afford that.

I groaned as I erased yet another introductory sentence I had attempted to come across as a decent greeting. Writers struggled with block every once in a while; compared to their almost common ailments, my writer's block infuriated me, more so than average. Creating songs had never served as a difficult obstacle—save one or two of them—but trying not to write, "I'm currently working on a case with my brother" was definitely difficult. If I wrote that, Mello would never speak to me again and Matt...I shuddered to even imagine _his _reaction. My fingers tapped nervously against the writing desk, anxious to take up the now abandoned pencil once more. To tell or not to tell? To even bother or not to bother at all? So many questions threatened to torture me that I swore my block grew worse.

An abrupt knock on the door alleviated my agony for the moment.

"May Light and I come in, Utako?" L inquired in his customary monotone, which he seemed to make even more emotionless. Perhaps the reason pointed to a potential murderer attached to him who had renounced his evil ways...for now.

"Yes, that will be fine by me," I replied, unconsciously crumpling up the postcard coated with eraser bits.

The two young men entered, L gazing suspiciously at me and Light just looking rather bored. Assuming that they had discovered no new leads on the case, I wondered what they (more specifically, my brother) came here for.

L managed to put my inward questions to rest by telling me, "I just thought it strange that you would go to bed this early"—he then espied the crumpled card—"but, by chance, were you writing a letter?"

"To my childhood friends...but I was going to throw it away. It's nothing serious or useful or anything."

"That would be a good idea. We don't want them to know what we're up to. In that case, we'll leave—sorry to disturb you," L stated rather guardedly.

I practically told him that it was no trouble, but Light decided to interrupt.

"I noticed something about you two for quite some time," he began, "and it's kind of bugging me. You two look strangely alike for some reason, and you act like you've known each other since birth."

"We were just next door neighbors," I assured him. "I also idolized my future colleague, and we were friends since childhood. The funniest thing is that my hair used to be blond."

"O...K," Light submitted, though still looked like he smelled something rotten in Denmark.

Thankfully, he hardly pursued the subject any further and turned to leave. Before they totally abandoned my room, though, my brother mouthed, "Nice lying."

I smiled contently, but, deep down within me, I was scared of what Light had nearly discovered.

* * *

**A/N: I actually seem to give L some of the best lines, especially the UN comment. And, what's this? Light has practically discovered V's secret connection to L. Uh-oh with a capital U-O! Luckily, he's forgotten using the Death Note for now, so Misa technically doesn't have the eyes. But, I'm telling you, that was a close shave.**

**So, yes, the epic L vs Light was featured--hoped you enjoyed that. And, it's kind of ironic how V doesn't really like lying, but she does it anyway! XD It's a Wammy's kid thing. And she almost sounded like she was obsessed with L in her lie. 0_0 Aw, well, she really isn't, so yeah!**

**Don't know when this will be updated--it insists on storming in the stupid Midwest so freaking much this summer. :( But, hey, I have almost 600 hits to this story, so I'm not complaining. Still, I'll be sure to update. Promise!**


	11. Frivolity

**A/N: I first off apologize if the chapter seems kind of girly. But, trust me, this is the only chapter like this. And it's Misa's fault! XD Just so you know.**

**Hm, and this story is currently over 100 pages on Word, my largest story yet. It makes me happy. XD**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Death Note, not affiliated with it except being a mere fan.**

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**Chapter 11: Frivolity**

Numerous events occurred after the day of the fight, I can't even begin to explain each one in full detail. Namely, though, we pinpointed yet another Kira to Yotsuba, a very powerful corporation in Japan. We spent our time watching their boring, conducted meetings, at the same time having to deal with the absence of Aizawa. The seasoned cop, along with Matsuda and Mr. Yagami, was faced with the decision to leave the NPA or stay on the case. He had seemed to lean toward the latter until realizing that L had set him up, which I found rather dishonorable. Why would my own brother do such a thing?

No matter, really, for Aizawa stormed off and uttered crisp words in place of a proper farewell. Turning our attention to what Light discovered on the Internet, we moved the investigation forward, focusing more on the Yotsuba group.

At one point, L enlisted the help of criminals to serve as the eyes and ears when it came to digging up information on the giant corporation. Aiber and Wedy admittedly did assist us more than anticipated, which showed what I knew. Then, of course, Matsuda fell into some trouble with Yotsuba when attempting to go undercover—needless to say, his cover was nearly blown. I remember that L wouldn't talk to the poor guy for days after the incident, even when we did resolve it by faking Matsuda's (or, more precisely, Taro Matsui's) death. However, the misstep led to a new lead, so that my brother wasn't too infuriated with him. And, of course, things went along fairly smoothly since.

Unfortunately, Misa hardly cared concerning the current circumstances of the investigation. She wanted to be out and about shopping, dilly-dallying, and doing young adult female _stuff_ like that. Begging and groveling like a persistent child, she asked of L to "please let me out, so I can go shopping!" The detective, appearing nonchalant, complied but on one condition...

I was to go with her on this pointless excursion. A resulting debate that took place between L and me ended on a sour note.

"Utako," he stated in a tone of finality, never taking his eyes off his computer, "you're going with Misa to make sure she isn't up to anything, and that's final."

Incredulous toward him, I attempted a fruitless comeback. "But, Ryuzaki, I—"

"No exceptions," his cold voice chilled me to the bone, "for you did come into this case saying you wanted to help in any way you could, correct?"

My mouth opened and closed like a nearly mindless fish before I hesitantly resigned to L's point and took the lift upstairs to change into my "average teen girl" attire. I ensured this time to apply my make-up more naturally, as those three college co-eds recommended on my recon mission. Fifteen minutes later, I emerged from the lift once again to the floor that Misa had all to herself. Keeping the chronological order of my story in mind, I should mention that we had all relocated to a permanent headquarters at this stage.

Misa, spoiled as she probably was, received an entire floor to stay for the time being, but I hardly cared about that. Instead, I focused on the task at hand.

"Misa," I started to say, my voice heavy with dread, "Ryuzaki granted his permission for you to go shopping. And I am to...erm...accompany you."

I winced when I heard her eagerly high-pitched squeals deafen my hearing and felt further agony when she embraced me. Obviously, her happiness knew no bounds, though I briefly thought that it should be restrained _once _in a while.

"Yay! Misa-Misa and Utako-chan are going shopping!" she exclaimed in hyperactive ecstasy.

She proceeded to drag me over to the lift again and pressed the button that would transport us to the bottom floor. A shame that I didn't get a word in edgewise, but at least Misa was content. That mattered the most, right? We both exited the headquarters to go out on our little shopping expedition, wherever it might have taken us. The streets of Tokyo seemed even more crowded than usual as we passed citizens on our way, Misa not releasing my hand once. Inwardly, I fervently hoped that we would come across a store soon before I contemplated wandering somewhere else, regardless of L's orders. Luckily, I didn't have to resort to such drastic measures when Misa pointed out a particular building.

"This is the best store ever! You should really see what it's like," she cooed over the store like she would a cute baby as we entered our final destination.

I pretended to smile and nod in compliance to create my pathetic excuse for a response. What did girls my age honestly see so fascinating in shopping that I refused to grasp? I had never liked shopping, as I have said previously. The frivolity and tediousness of it all nearly drove me mad when I tried to force myself into tolerating it. Clothes, for example, hardly intrigued me; I already possessed my sweatshirts and T-shirts. Food I never ran out of, and I merely shopped at the grocery store weekly for that need. Basically, I preferred to shop for needs not wants, as I assumed Misa presumably did. Whatever, I was very unenthused concerning this whole affair to say the least. Misa's method of shopping when it came to ding this hobby with others rendered me unimpressed as well.

"Utako, look at this!" she would call over to me three feet away, impelling everyone in the particular section to gawk at us.

"Utako-chan, you have to try this on!"

"This will flatter your curves, Utako!"

And so Misa's incessant quotes came off quickly and often. I was certain that by the end of the day, she would wear me out by forcing me to engage in these utterly stupid activities. However...I finally started to note that she meant well in her rather irritating actions. Considering that she had no girl-to girl interaction since her arrest, I almost sympathized with her again.

Gradually warming up to her, I rejected outfits at a slower pace than before, even beginning to accept some of the choices, too. Perhaps Misa-Misa wasn't so annoying after all. I went to the extreme then that maybe I required a female friend myself. At Wammy's, I only had Mello and Matt, just two boys how couldn't connect on the same level as me—not even Matt, my preferred best friend. So, for Misa to single me out as a potential friend was admittedly flattering. The girls back at the orphanage had most definitely despised me for the most part. But, here at this shopping mecca that Misa so obviously adored, I felt accepted by someone else outside my comfort zone. She caused me to determine that a reclusive life could lead to some unhealthy results in the end. I owed her that much to outwardly appear happy and mean it. This celebrity was actually bestowing to me a Good Samaritan act.

Despite my resolve, I firmly put my foot down when she offered what looked like a high school prom dress to me. I insisted that my looks would pale in comparison to such an exquisite piece of fabric. I hardly deserved such niceties, I said, I was content enough with normal, everyday wear, thank you very much for the offer.

Crestfallen, Misa sighed as she hung the dress back where she found it. "But, you would look so pretty in that dress, Utako-chan. Green is your color."

"I don't know what my color is nor do I care. Besides..."

I trailed off, for I would avoid the conclusion of that sentence, which would have basically translated into, "Besides, the dress reminds me too much of _his _eyes."

After what felt like many hours, we carried our items to a check-out lane to pay the steep amounts of yen. I couldn't recall how much we spent, though, just that Misa was the one who really wasted the money. She bought approximately sixty different items; I bought six. The search for rubbish, I assumed, had at last come to a satisfying conclusion. Of course, Misa craved for more items, her hunger for them yet to be completely sated. I proceeded to wonder if being a shopoholic implied possible, genuine disease. For Misa's sake, I wished fate would prove me wrong.

It eventually did, but in an unprecedented manner in which I could scarcely prepare for. The sun had slowly set over the streets of the beautiful city of Tokyo while we strode to another location. On the way, something caught my eye, something sleek and shiny. I halted so avidly, I almost tripped over my own feet. Misa was just as unprepared, for she crashed into me like a bowling ball would to a set of pins. Sprawled out in a rather cumbersome, unladylike fashion on the sidewalk, she grunted softly as she stood to her feet.

She brushed dust particles away from her shoulder, complaining, "Utako-chan, why did we have to stop here?!? We're not even at—oh."

She must have seen the distant glaze in my ebony eyes, which gazed in a trance-like state at a console behind the display window. We had stopped at a gaming store, and it reminded me of him, more keenly than the emerald colored dress had.

I suddenly remembered all those days he would spend playing video games after classes, his cigarette producing wispy clouds that permeated the common room. This was probably why less and less children even wanted to go there; the scent of ash dominated in such a suffocating way. But, I never minded. Why would I mind his potentially hazardous habit when he didn't bother me? Just sitting beside him, watching him gain the chance to play the next level—all the cigarette smoke the world produced could scarcely tear me from moments like these, however miniscule. I also recalled the lazy smile he would give to me once he acknowledged my presence along with ruffling my hair. He always liked messing my hair up for some reason I never discovered when living at Wammy's. I had grown to love that habit, though.

Misa interrupted my sudden flashback by waving her perfectly manicured hand in front of my face.

I blinked twice before descending to the strict limits of real life again, my recollection ceasing as I actually saw the console behind the display window.

"Oh, hello," I muttered dizzily to my companion for today. "I...forgot that you...were...with me."

"Are you sick, Utako-chan?" Misa inquired, genuinely concerned, which took me aback.

The sleek black surface of the console seemed to practically blind me. "No, I'm fine. It's just that this gaming store reminds me of—"

A sly, almost devious smile established itself on the young celebrity's face. For some reason, I realized that she figured out my thoughts. "Is it a boy?"

As much as I struggled not to, a faint pink blush spread across my face, and I tried to hide it. But, the damage was done, dramatically speaking. Erupting into squeals, Misa squeezed my shoulder tightly. I doubt she expected me of all people to fall into an infatuation with anybody. Faced with the prospect of having been found out, I confessed.

"Yes, he's someone from my hometown. We grew up together, and I have had a 'crush' on him...for quite some time now. This gaming store reminds me of him—he loves video games."

"Ohhh, so that's why!" The sly smirk never left Misa's lips, but I could tell she was pleased for my sake. What motive she could have possessed in feeling this way at my expense? I had no idea. I merely busied myself in thinking about the irony that ordinary things such as a game console or a dress could trigger memories of someone special...very special indeed.

Even though she seemed rather reluctant about this, Misa entered the gaming store with me to browse the items there. Familiar titles caught my eye: _Mario_, _Zelda_, _Crash_, and many more that have existed for decades. I even glimpsed a particularly captivating game called _Kingdom Hearts_, which was one of the few I actually played. Copies of the sequel lay next to copies of the original, although two of these remained. A smile curved my lips due to nostalgia on such items of pop culture. However, I merely browsed, whereas Misa kept whining that she wanted sushi, as well as to "get out of this nerdy place."

"Shortly, Misa-san, shortly," I stated calmly, "and this isn't a nerdy place. Rather, it's interesting to me. I bet my friend would love this place, too."

The complaints abated until they ceased to exist; I was glad that the normally stubborn Misa yielded enough to see through my perspective. Though occasionally selfish, she considered her friends ones to keep for life. It made me reflect on the unconditional loyalty I bestowed to my own two best friends. Once this case finally came to an end, I vowed to myself, I would visit them at Wammy's House. Hopefully, they would still reside there by that time and not grow up too fast for that fateful day.

I hummed an optimistic song softly as I picked up a new model of the Sony Playstation called the PSP. The company executives had released a handheld of their own at last; Matt would be pleased if he saw this. Maybe if I bought one, he might even be jealous that I found out PSPs existed before he did. To the check-out lane I went, and I bought the handheld without a second thought, as well as a _Final Fantasy_ game to go with it.

Since we had not meandered inside the store for very long, it appeased Misa that we would return to headquarters. She eagerly waited for the moment she would get there, so that she could coordinate her clothing. On the opposite spectrum, I just wanted to see if any recent developments had been made in the case. I half-yearned to forget that I even went on this petty excursion, yet I half-divulged to myself that the experience did reward me in more ways than one. Obtaining a friend, recalling the good times shared with Matt, and having someone who didn't find my intelligence annoying—there were all positives.

When we arrived back at headquarters, we took the lift up to Misa's floor, where we eventually parted ways. We even exchanged a few words of casual conversation.

"Domo arigato for going shopping with me, Utako-chan!" She embraced me like a sister would to another after her declaration of thanks. In retrospect, I appreciated this gesture of enthusiastic friendship.

"I was glad to go," I replied, surprising myself with the softly uttered truth resonating in my words. Even though I still despised shopping, the idea of acceptance thrilled me. And that mattered to me above all else.

Feeling a sense of normalcy wash over me, I blissfully strode over to the floor where L and the others gathered around the huge computer to observe yet another Yotsuba meeting.

"Any new developments?" I inquired rather cheerily. Misa's eternal optimism radiated so brightly, it was infectious, and I seemed to have caught it severely.

"There hasn't been much going on, but something strange has happened," L quietly told me while Light simply nodded. Of course, he had to acknowledge me aloud as well.

"So, Utako, I hope Misa didn't annoy you too much," he stated.

"No, she was no trouble actually."

As soon as those words eluded my lips, I pondered over the possibilities as to why Light would say something like that. However, in the past, he wouldn't have hesitated to express his opinions about her in full detail. To me, he was no longer the manipulator he used to be, not since the confinement. Suspicious occurrences directed themselves to Light Yagami, but I hardly felt like voicing them out in the open. Besides, L did admit that Light served as the first friend he ever possessed...or so I thought at the time to be accurate. I didn't want to hurt his feelings if I said incriminating words regarding his "friend."

"What happened that was so strange?" I asked, standing on tiptoes above Matsuda to try to pinpoint the out of place item on my own accord.

"We noticed that one of the Yotsuba businessmen went missing," Mr. Yagami briefed me on the current situation. This compelled me to speculate.

Settling myself firmly back on my feet, I guessed, "Perhaps he's Kira and wants to act within the privacy of his own home when it comes to the killings."

L contemplated over these words as he focused attentively on the computer screen. "That is possible, but it may be more on the lines that he's been killed by the Kira in this group."

Matsuda proceeded to brag, turning toward me to say, "Well, we probably wouldn't have found this out if it wasn't for my heroics."

"Try stupidity," L muttered darkly.

Light promptly agreed. "It's true, Matsuda. What you did was rather stupid."

I sighed due to being weary of having all these condescending words tossed about. "Be that as it may, there are more important things to discuss. Matsuda's IQ is not one of them."

"Thank you, Utako!" Matsuda beamed.

"You're very welcome, fellow colleague of mine. But, let's pay attention to this meeting."

We watched the meeting play out, and the first item the businessmen mentioned...was the death of their co-worker Hatori.

"It's definitely narrowed down to one of these men...but this is rather hard to discern who."

The task force simultaneously submitted short nods in response; it figures that I should state the obvious. As much as I hated to, I resolved to retire to my room.

"I'm sorry that I can't be of better use," I apologized, stifling a yawn, "but I'm going to bed. Shopping can be taxing on the mind...and the body, if your companion is as excitable as Misa-san."

"I'm sure," my brother responded in a sarcastic manner as I assumed he would.

"Well, have a good sleep, Utako," Light contributed.

I nodded once before entering the lift to return to my room. As I did so, I carelessly tossed the two bags of clothing into a conveniently nearby closet. Then, I extracted the PSP from the third bag along with the game and played it, childhood memories and him coming back in a sense.

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**A/N: I'm sorry I couldn't come up with a better chapter ending, because I remember that my mind drew a partial blank right at that part. I just had V being tired as an excuse. So, V's almost all right with Misa, believe it or not. I kind of feel sorry for Misa, because she was taken advantage of--and really, this chapter made me see things a little more differently, from V's perspective.**

**But, hey, I mentioned video games, because I didn't want to make this chapter excessively girly. And, V likes Kingdom Hearts. Awesomeness! Another thing...I wish I had a PSP. I don't really know why, I just wish I had one.**


	12. Insight

**A/N: All right, I updated! Now, I'll apologize right off the bat: sorry that this chapter is short. But, it's a special one, because it's a POV chapter. This is the first of three that will be found sporadically throughout the story. This particular one is, obviously, in L's POV.**

**Disclaimer: Honestly, do I have millions of dollars? No, because I don't own Death Note! XP**

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**Chapter 12: Insight**

Chilly torrents of rain poured one November day, thunder and lightning sometimes providing the sound effects for an overall unpleasant scene. Normally, people wouldn't dare venture from the warmth of their homes to such monstrous storms outside. Then again, L had always contrasted from average people. He stood in his poor posture on the topmost floor of the high-rise that had served as headquarters for nearly a month now. Truthfully, he merely desired to escape the increasingly dark environment that lurked within this building. A shinigami, white as bone, constantly floating in the background contributed to that. He could scarcely believe that this case had taken a paranormal turn.

A few months ago, V had indeed strived toward the right direction when she mentioned that the notebooks talked about in the diary entry were murder weapons. When they arrested Higuchi, one of the Yotsuba members, he had confessed to killing using a black notebook. Oddly enough, he died of heart attack moments later, shortly after L had the particular notebook snatched out of his hands by Light. The detective preferred to rule it out as sheer coincidence that Higuchi would die after the still prime suspect received that accursed book.

But then, things became even worse after this incident.

Reluctantly and truly feeling cornered in the sense that he was losing, L removed the handcuffs that attached him to Light and vice versa. The college student decided to remain on the task force, whereas his girlfriend was free to go. Recently, the now twenty-five-year-old detective (his birthday had nearly been a week ago) had to contend with Rem, the shinigami that everyone saw once they touched the notebook. V, the ever calm, studious girl, barely reacted to seeing this horrific creature of death, if at all.

Yet, even she maintained an air of blissful oblivion when it came to the harsh truth: he, the world's greatest detective, had lost. Insight informed him of morbid future events to unfold that deemed this fact so. As much as L hated to admit it, he even recognized that Light had somehow returned to his plotting self, the self that barely anyone saw. He couldn't grasp why; it was only inevitable, as well as alarming. A cold awareness impelled him to feel depression, something he hadn't felt in ages.

The morbid sense had arrived when he first started speaking to Rem, whose wary, predatory golden eyes bored into his own blank black ones. It was as though time had fast-forward to a fateful, crucial event that could destroy all of humankind. Despite his seclusion, despite his carefully laid-out precautions, even he wasn't safe from this. He knew that. He despised knowing that, but the awareness remained the same nonetheless. Coming into this case, he thought he would solve it in a week or two. Kira would be behind bars, and he could move on to the next case.

How regretfully he, L, had miscalculated.

Now, as the wind whipped his hair, already drenched with rain, he began to genuinely worry over V. Supernatural malevolence had seized this case; he would loathe himself forever if he lost his sister, his only sibling to it. The same went with Watari, who had served as a father, a grandfather, and a friend. Bells tolled in their haunting manner, foretelling pessimistically of what would come. However, in a sense, they acutely reminded L of the church bells that rang on Sundays on an hourly basis near Wammy's. Childhood memories came back to him, however miserable they were.

Why did they, the loyal task force members, decide to risk their own lives on his account? Even Aizawa, who returned to help arrest Higuchi, had resolved to do this not once, but _twice_. All of the members led content lives before this case—why put them on the line like that? Watari aka Quillish Wammy was one person that L comprehended as to why he accompanied him...but the others?

Yes, he could have dwelled on this long ago; now that the case seemed to near to a close, though, he couldn't help but question. And V...he could still scarcely believe that she faithfully remained like she did. She was the one he had hoped would aspire to college, the one who would lead a much happier life that he would not even bother to achieve.

Instead, she steadfastly took on a role in the task force, her alias still cleverly being held up after all this time. L proceeded to curse fate, to curse chance in general.

That damnable shinigami inside this building could kill her at any time, snuffing any faith that L had rested in her out like candle flames. But, no...V was so much more sensible than to allow herself to die, so very capable to look out for herself.

"_I'm not the baby any more."_

She had said these words so matter-of-factly with her quiet confidence intact. Perhaps he should metaphorically copy her notes on living life. In a way, she was practically a full-fledged expert on the subject, though had seventeen years to her name. Light's age...but, of course, she differed from Light. Thank heavens above she did, his intelligent little sister he had had to raise all his own.

And she turned out as well as he had hoped she would.

L wearily sighed, though realized that he briefly felt like a proud parent...or maybe he should just stick to classifying himself as the brother.

"_Yes," _he thought as a ghost of a smile curved his lips, _"that would be better."_

As the rain perpetually poured, he heard the bells yet again. Had an hour elapsed since the last series of peals? His self-meditation was lasting longer than he anticipated. He strained his ears to hear these melancholy yet consoling bells sing their songs to all of Tokyo. A flicker of optimism ignited his soul for just a fraction of a second.

He then proceeded to recollect on several plans he had made to himself over these past excruciating months. One of these aforementioned plans had concerned V, whom he told that he would willingly work together with her. While miserable only minutes ago when he wrapped himself up with worry and guilt, how could L forget that? With her knowledge of psychological terms and his deductive skills, they would make the perfect duo of sleuths. As for the task force, the members could work under them, if they so wished. Who knew? Maybe the police wouldn't mind cooperating either.

So many dreams and high ambitions for the future...that is, if Kira didn't destroy them all first, crushing them into the dust. L nearly shuddered from chill as well as apprehension to even think of that possibility.

Lightning maliciously sliced the sky in half, accompanied with the rumbling of its loyal companion thunder. Realizing that he had been dreaming like a wistful schoolboy, L sensed reality slap him in the face. No time to avert his attention to the future. He had other more important items on his plate, the proof required to arrest Light and let justice run its course being top priorities.

That conniving young man was never his friend, despite what he said. After all, L merely tossed the lie out there to test Light, to see if maybe he possessed a more human, compassionate side. The college student might have used to, but this Death Note seemed to be the key to his cruelty—that is, if L was correct in thinking this. But, if he erred in his judgment, he would lose massive credibility and cease to work in the law enforcement field.

Surely the answer to this extensive, complicated dilemma would come off as obvious. As he told himself many times already, he was L. And as L, he needed to meet a requirement to serve and protect. He would fulfill that need to his last breath in order to save as many lives as possible in the name of justice! Ridding himself of that despicable Kira, whom he knew for certain had to be Light, he would come out at on top. No criminal such as this mass murderer would ever see the light of day as long as he lived. And, best of all, no one would dare to trifle with him, the world's greatest detective, once Kira was behind bars or dead.

One exasperating question had to be answered, though. Was he a hypocrite?

He preached justice all over the place, yet he contemplated testing the notebook, a step toward the right direction of Light's guilt. To deter his rival, he would end up killing one single person. No matter what doubts he possessed regarding the matter, he must test the Death Note, even if one life ended. Besides, millions more could be saved. His brilliant mind contradicted everything, but his instincts (and he supposed his heart) were set on this final objective.

This key to unlock the undeniable truths of Light's guilt, resulting in a promising college student's downfall.

Nonetheless, it had to be done, even if no one would speak to him again after this. At last, L had made his decision, just as his sister V approached him.

* * *

**A/N: OK, so I always wanted to write something regarding L's thoughts in the rain scene. At first, I put that he really thought Light was his friend, then I was like, "He definitely would not think that!" So, I decided to stress that L wants to win almost, if not more so, as badly as he wants justice to be served. That he wants Light out of his hair--I thought that was a better revision than what I had before in my notebook. Unfortunately, V does not know that L has a low opinion of Light for sure--because, in my opinion, L is about as good at acting as Light is.**

**So, that's the POV chapter. Tomorrow, when I update, it's back to V.**

**I'll just say a little something right now...after tomorrow, you guys might hate me. Especially since Chapter 13 is the V's birthday edition chapter. Geez, I'm not that great at being time appropiate. Review please!**


	13. Vanished

**A/N: OK, first off, the fact that this is chapter 13 is completely coincidental. And it also sucks that I had to release this on V's "birthday." But, it's for you guys who faithfully read through this. After all, I had updated yesterday, and it's a Friday. Still...well, here it is (sighs).**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Death Note. Do own V.**

**Warning: This chapter is pretty heavy. Yes, that's a warning, because--well, I'll leave you to your reading.**

* * *

**Chapter 13: Vanished**

Prior to searching for L, I had engaged in a brief conversation with Watari concerning my brother's whereabouts. For some reason, he had basically cross-examined the shinigami Rem and promptly disappeared. I was concerned over his well-being, curious as to why he would wander off like that. After informing Watari of the situation, I observed that he bestowed a kindly smile to me just as a grandfather would. Instinct told me at that moment that I didn't need to worry, only to placate my anxieties.

"He might be on the top floor, V," Watari hinted.

"I just hope that wherever he is, he's OK," I confessed, realizing that I was wringing my hands.

Shoving them into my hooded sweatshirt pockets, I awkwardly studied all the computer screens in this room, filled with data on the case. My fingers tapped against the soft cotton fabric of the insides of my pockets. Now, more than ever, I yearned for Kira's arrest, or, better yet, his death penalty that jurors would sentence him to. I just wanted this horrific case to conclude, so that I could stop worrying about my brother's survival or my own. Most of all, I would abhor this situation to spread worldwide, placing my best friends at risk. Everyone deserved safety and sanctuary from this bloodthirsty, despicable villain who had devised his innocent façade to perfection. He fooled almost everybody.

Watari eventually interrupted my rather frightened thoughts by assuring me, "You need not worry so much, Victoria. L says this case should be coming to an end in just a few short days."

A dry smile flittered across my lips before my somber countenance returned. "We all wish that more than anything, Watari. Mr. Yagami, Matsuda, Aizawa, Mogi, you, me, L, Light, and the whole world—we're all depending on this. And it will come to pass, I know it."

"Yes. I will see you this afternoon when I bring ice cream for you and L," the loyal surrogate grandfather to us promised.

"That would be great," I replied simply, turning to walk over to the lift. "Could we have Ben and Jerry's?"

"Of course."

Softly closing the door behind me, I set off for the apex of the high-rise, relying on Watari's suggestion. It seemed like forever until I was actually there.

L stood all alone, as though he had lost himself in a trance from which he refused to awaken. He was soaked to the skin, and I doubted the wind felt very pleasant. I knew I certainly wasn't enjoying it, especially when I noticed something different about him. Through his emotionless mask, I had a sense that he was depressed, probably resulting from a revelation he must have had. Otherwise, he would avoid unreasonably standing outside in a storm the way he did.

Slightly concerned, I waved to him before making my way through the strong gusts and torrential rains to approach him.

"I take it something is bothering you, big brother," I remarked as a greeting.

Appearing to have finished his profound musing for the moment, he turned toward me to respond. At least he wasn't totally despondent, which alleviated my nerves.

"Oh, V-chan, I see you've used your childhood nickname for me," he murmured monotonously, still not fully waking from his meditation. "You haven't used it in ages."

I grinned and patted him on the shoulder. "I felt that the occasion called for it."

"Interesting..."

My dark, fathomless eyes narrowed in suspicion. What had my brother thought about so intensely to compel him to act like a heavy weight had been placed on his shoulders?

I ambled around him to attempt diagnosing whatever condition had loomed over him. "Are you OK, L-kun? You haven't acted like this since the brawl between you and Light."

A wan smile graced my brother's lips, and I saw how weary he truly was, how much older he seemed than his twenty-five years. "Now you know how I feel when I become concerned over you. I guess this is what siblings do."

"We've only worried all our lives."

"True, true."

We mutely resolved to watch the storm together, its power impressing me as lightning flashed and thunder growled in a hostile manner. I almost felt like I needed to write a song about it, how haunting and melodious these two storm components behaved.

At that moment, bells, glorious bells that genuinely reminded me of my childhood, rang out the number of hours currently. L and I glanced at each other, and I could tell that we were thinking the exact, same thing. At that moment, I sensed that we telepathically clicked, more so than most siblings could claim, no matter how fervently.

"Remember when the church bells near Wammy's would ring every Sunday?" L asked quietly.

"I'll never forget them," I vowed, feeling in my heart the truth that had been executed. "I used to write all sorts of songs because of them. They were inspiration for me, the bells."

Another wry yet genuine smile passed through my brother's lips. "Sometimes...I wish I could have read them. But, I left shortly after your seventh birthday, and I had been so busy since that day."

I nodded, seeing within my mind the smaller version of me, weeping over the absence of the last tie to family I had at my disposal. It was a weak version of me that I preferred to forget prior to today. I remained silent as I journeyed through my thoughts and my memories. All the while, the bells echoed, their euphoria enchanting me. But, then, for a strange reason I couldn't comprehend at the time, a line from Edgar Allan Poe's "The Bells" established itself in my mind. Particularly, the fourth section of the poem resonated deep within me, a section that spoke of iron bells—death bells that sang melancholy, hopeless tunes.

This is what I deserved for hungrily perusing Poe during my early teens, I assumed bitterly. Funny, how the darkest items can come to you at times that seem brighter than that, so much more luminescent than what meets the eye. Even worse, the next few sentences I addressed to my brother sounded...like a parting farewell almost, though he stood beside me.

"No matter what the outcome of this case is, please remember this, L. You have been the best brother to me throughout my entire life. I could hardly eke it out without your support. And I have really seen why the orphans at Wammy's were so jealous of me. It was because they didn't have you for a brother."

Out of the corners of my eyes, I espied L allowing the largest, most honest smile I had seen all day from him. He then turned to respond to this almost sentimental speech of mine.

"V, you in turn have served as a caring, loving sister more and more with each passing year. We have seemingly gone through every obstacle life had to offer us. And now, we're here, trying to save the world. I'm glad you have helped me with this case."

"I am too, L."

I realized the inevitable when he mentioned the case. Light. I had to tell him about Light, regarding his behavior the past week. If hadn't known him for certain five months ago, I knew now. Before the thunderstorm had struck, I figured this out with conviction.

Light was Kira. No second-guessing existed for me now, but one factor still persisted.

I could clearly recall that L admitted that Light was the first real friend he had. But, would friends plot to kill other friends? Would they lie on a regular basis? Would they pretend constantly that they possessed kind souls? The obvious answer to all these questions was no. To hurt my brother by breaking the news to him, though, was what I opted to evade. I knew L better than anyone else, aware that a beautifully pure soul lay underneath the emotionless mask. I couldn't put him through unforgiving pain now out of all times. There was just no way!

Debating with myself whether to divulge my opinion or not, I began to say, "L, now that you mention the case, I just remembered what I need to tell you. I think I know one hundred percent who Kira, that revolting mastermind behind all those undeserved killings, is."

"Who do you think it is, V-chan?" he inquired, tilting his head slightly, droplets of rain falling from his soaked black hair.

Nervous from the building tension of this dramatic situation, I heaved a breath.

"_All right, V," _I lectured myself, _"you can do this."_

Of course, I said this silently, but aloud, "It's—"

Light emerged from the interior of the headquarters, his arms splayed out in front of him to balance himself against the roaring wind.

"Yes?" L endeavored to get the name out of me...to no avail.

"Never mind, I'm sorry," I sighed wearily before trudging off to grant L and Light a private conversation.

Due to my stupidly coy behavior, I lost ten minutes I could have spent keeping a sharper than average eye on the college student. Glaring at him on the route back to the inside of headquarters hardly counted, though I did detect a strange sight.

Light's eyes had glowed bright red for a millisecond before reverting to normal brown. That image I swore would taunt me for eternity. Later, all of us gathered around L sitting in front of the large computer screen. He seemed to contemplate over an idea, which lasted only a minute before he unveiled it to us.

"There's only one option I feel is needed to be executed," he calmly, quietly informed.

"You're not talking about testing the notebook are you?!?" Mr. Yagami asked, his eyes widening.

Aizawa immediately jumped into the discussion. "Ryuzaki, you surely can't be serious about this!"

"Yeah," Matsuda contributed rather furiously, "if you write in that notebook, you would have to do so every thirteen days or you'll die!"

"That rule could be fake, you know," I whispered to him, trying to cool down this heated conversation.

Only L, shockingly, raised his voice slightly. This was probably in part due to his passion in solving this case...even if it meant testing the Death Note.

"This is what I have to resort to in order to help solve this case!" he declared. "We need the evidence!"

Suddenly, every computer screen in the room stated that extensive amounts of data had been officially deleted.

"Watari?" L said our caregiver's name concernedly, though I glimpsed sadness in his normally emotionless orbs. The elderly man who had give us the gift of shelter in our early days had died. No one had to inform me of that fact.

"Watari...," I murmured, tears threatening to burn my eyes and the skin of my face.

"What's going on?!?" Matsuda urgently asked, his fear evident.

"I told Watari to delete all evidence in the event of an emergency," L replied in a much too placid manner, even for him. He seemed to have something else to say just seconds later.

"Everyone, the shiniga—"

And then, it happened...the most devastating blow of my life. The events that unfolded next seemed as though they originated from a horror movie that played before my eyes. I assured myself that this had to be a nightmare. I would awaken shortly.

The situation was all too real. L's spoon that he never dropped toppled from his hand.

"Not happening," I whispered to myself, "not happening!"

He fell from his chair, his eyes widened from the shock of a heart attack. These orbs, for a fraction of a second, drifted to me before resting on Light, whose eyes glowed red again.

Light caught my brother, who nearly crashed onto the hard tile floor.

It's all from a movie, a terrible B-movie with a low budget, I figured. My usually rational mind ran all over the place, frantically attempting to discern the real from the unreal. But, the smirk settled on Light's lips—I saw it when no one else on the force did. They freaked out and somehow lost their balances.

There was one thing I could do to prevent this college student—this terribly artful, powerful _murderer_—from killing me.

I pretended to faint, which I already felt like doing; the flabbergasted light-headedness had arrived to me full-force.

"Utako!" four men shouted my alias, though I abruptly couldn't remember which voice belonged to any of them.

L...hadn't died, right? He merely faked his death or whatever, too. Tomorrow, he would calmly sit in front of the computer with cake in tow. Assuring us that he had fully recovered, he would explain the next objective. And Watari—he would be there too to assist us in any way possible. Our caretaker had always done this for us, even as children, orphaned children who only requested a helping hand. I would joke with my brother after tomorrow's meeting.

Everything would be normal. It had to be _perfectly _normal!

"Utako?" someone asked from far, far away.

"Br—brother?" I was said to have whispered (according to Yagami-san later) before falling into deep black.

* * *

Infernal rays of sunlight ventured to penetrate themselves through a window into my bedroom the next morning. They impelled me to open my eyes, though I felt none too pleased from the prospect. I wondered why that sense persisted more annoyingly than usual. Stumbling to my window, I already noticed as I looked out people briskly walking about Tokyo with relentless determination. This presumably applied to the businessmen—but wait.

Yotsuba had consisted (or still have, I guessed) of businessmen, but one died...no, two. Higuchi had wound up being another Kira, obviously according to the arrest.

Afterwards, Rem, that haunting, eerie shinigami I refused to trust, came into the picture. She would merely observe us all day while speaking rather stoically to L.

Of course, my brother and I shared a conversation in the rain that somehow posed as foreboding in a sense. A foreshadowing had inadvertently been cast that day.

But, that was yesterday. This surely meant that the previous afternoon contained...

No! It had surely served as a dream, a horrific reverie that frightened me during the night.

"Oh my God, L!" I nearly panicked from the events of my positively certain nightmare as I abruptly slammed open the door.

Rushing out into the main room where we normally met to discuss information, I accidentally ran into Matsuda.

"Oh, Utako, you're up." He attempted to smile, though it almost seemed bleak, unlike his customary grins. "You know, we were all worried about you. In fact, we all thought that you got a heart attack, too."

"Too? What do you mean by 'too'?!?" I asked frantically, clutching him forcefully by the shoulders.

"Well, I guess you wouldn't remember it, since you acted like you were dizzy. Utako, I'm very sorry about this but...L's..."

"Yes," I pressed, my nerves fraying steadily by the second.

"He's gone, and so is Watari. I know you knew them well; that's why I hated breaking the news to you. But,"—and here, Matsuda sighed wearily—"I felt like I needed to tell you some time."

I felt as though the world should shatter now, come to an end, just so I could stop this terrible pain in my chest. Maybe my heart would mend itself then. But, it still remained incomprehensible to me.

How could L, my brother, my protector, my hero, die without so much as a goodbye to me first? How could he just fall off the face of the earth into oblivion? How could whoever served as the evil puppetmaster to fate pull the strings so awry?

He couldn't have vanished like he did! He may have concealed himself from ninety-nine point nine percent of the world, but he could hardly have severed ties with it. I would absolutely discover him in the computer room at least.

Losing placid, total control over my actions, I shoved Matsuda roughly aside as I shouted five octaves higher than usual, "He's not dead, Matsuda! What kind of sick, demented joke are you trying to pull?!? He's alive, I know it! Watari, too—they're both alive! Do you hear me, Matsuda?!?"

"But, I'm being serious here," the young cop replied, though faltered, considering my verging insanity confused as well as shocked him senseless.

"I'll prove you wrong," I told him in a low, husky voice, and I turned away from him to search for L.

I seemed to check every nook and cranny in the high-rise for familiar, unkempt black hair or remains of treats high in glucose. All the while, I called his name until my throat became hoarse with the effort. Finally, just as I was ready to give up, I glimpsed his laptop on the table in the main room where I had spoken to Matsuda an hour ago.

Of course! Why didn't I think to look for any signs of L's existence there?

But, a half-eaten doughnut along with a very lukewarm cup of coffee sat next to the laptop, all long since abandoned by their owner.

"He's only gone out to do...something," I tried assuring myself, but my tired voice cracked, and I could sense the distinct, hollow tone from my statement. Tentatively, I switched on L's laptop to find something to help; I didn't care what.

A concise number of words popped up on the screen instead of the familiar letter with the Cloister-Black font, otherwise known as my brother's symbol. These words basically displayed the last will (in a sense) and testament of him, which said that they proved that he had endeavored to solve this vital case. But, he didn't win.

I knew then that he was gone, just as Matsuda had attempted to convey to me. No sound effects resonated throughout the eerily quiet room, no dramatically melancholy music was orchestrated—this was real life, my life, not some fictional movie. Optimism defeated at last, I stumbled back to my room while the task force members reluctantly assembled.

"Hey, Utako, we have a meeting!" Matsuda called to me, but Aizawa gave him a stony glare.

"She wants to be alone right now at this time, so shut up! Can't you realize her friend is dead?!?"

The last thing I wanted out of any of them was their concern, which I had indeed heard through their voices as I made my way to the lift. As it ascended, I recollected the moment L left Wammy's House for good, all those many years ago. I had deemed him leaving me to reside in the orphanage a tragedy...but at least he had been alive. Was I so foolish as to not see that? All these years, I had taken L staying in this world for granted.

Now that he abandoned it too, how was I to go on with my life?

The ding of the elevator bell sounded as I finally reached my room to mourn the inevitable loss of my brother L. He was always so passionate regarding justice, his soul seeming to emit a pure, luminescent light. No one would have even bothered or dared to kill him, bringing darkness along with it. But, as I collapsed onto the bed, sobbing like I had fervently refused to for years, I realized that Light had been the harbinger of that darkness. He, that devil incarnate, had eliminated my brother like I had dreaded he would.

The despicable, two-faced, lying, back-stabbing—!

It was because of him that I believed what L said when he mentioned that that idiot was his first friend. I should have known that my brother lied to feign vulnerability. But, because of my stupidly caring heart, I registered these words differently. If I could have warned L somehow, his life wouldn't have been this tragically short.

Meditating upon this infuriated me in a terribly ironic manner. I lost my calm, nearly insane with grief, while I cursed violently. Every word I could bloody think of, I used carelessly and without any demure composure about it. I furiously hurled my pillows to vent my frustration, which increased by the second. How could Light Yagami—no, Kira—do this?!? How could he kill somebody's brother without remorse and only with a flourish of a pen?

These questions were the ones that enraged me, serving as extremely dry kindling to an already blazing fire.

Like the rain that had washed over us yesterday, tears drenched me, bitter tears that represented a sister in mourning over an unjust murder. Light had disregarded that fact, but he might not have even known that L and I were brother and sister. Even so, he nonetheless would have killed my brother. What angered me most was that I could have done something to forestall, if not prevent, his actions. He could have taken me instead, just not L.

Not L, not that good soul who brought me up to what I am today.

Panting after my tantrum, my maelstrom of sheer emotion, I surveyed the surroundings of this room. A potted plant had toppled over, the bedsheets were clearly untidy, and I possessed reddened eyes from my depression and madness. It was at this moment that I realized something that would fuel me later on in life. Though I hadn't the capability to stop L from dying, I vowed that I would avenge my brother's death. I believed strongly in the only rule of karma: what goes around comes around. Thus, with this awareness, I would ensure to put Kira to justice. Despite that not even the brilliant L could do this, I would for certain. This revolting, agonizing crime that Light Yagami had enacted would not go unpunished.

I, V Lawliet, would herald the end to Kira's crimes against humanity.

* * *

**A/N: OK, I teared up while writing this thing. To also get the peak of the emotion in this chapter, I watched episode 25 (it's terrible in a painful way! T_T) the night before originally writing this. And, of course, that episode made me cry silently. It's just a really sad episode. I also had V be in disbelief, for I think that's the saddest part of death--not believing that your loved ones are gone. I hated killing off L, don't get me wrong. He's my favorite character, and it really made me depressed to kill him off. I remember not writing for three days after this chapter.**

**So, saying this, NO FOREST FIRES! You know, flaming, only tenfold--that's what I like to call them. I don't really like hate mail, and I don't think anybody else does either. I just couldn't get the creative juices flowing enough to save him...and you really can't have the Mello & Near arc without this event. That arc is important in my story, namely the Mello part of it. So, this is not over yet! But, sorry guys for this really long A/N and really sad chapter.**


	14. Farewell

**A/N: Hey, guys. Yesterday's chapter was certainly sad...and so is this one. Sorry. But, things do get better after a while, just not yet. After all, sometimes, things have to get worse before they get better. Part of this chapter, by the way, is based off the deleted funeral part in the anime, in case anyone's curious.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Death Note. But, I still own V!**

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**Chapter 14: Farewell**

We resolved to hold the funeral the next day once we retrieved L's lifeless body, concealed by a white sheet, from the morgue. Of course, the coroner had to officially classify the results of the autopsy as a heart attack. What he didn't know, however, was that someone had written L's name down to give him said heart attack. The task force members (though not what I would have chosen) opted to not use the Death Note as evidence within a judicial system. The fact that shinigami were involved with these deadly black notebooks would be too much to handle for all present in a court of law. Not only that, but Rem had mysteriously vanished, though we discerned that the dust we discovered belonged to her.

Yes, the funeral, one of which I wished I had never lived long enough to witness—it was irrevocably miserable. Light, despite my feeble protests, was one of the pallbearers that carried L's casket to the burial site selected for the occasion. Aizawa, Matsuda, and Mr. Yagami also served as pallbearers with Ide (he had returned to the task force recently) and Mogi trailing after them. I attended my brother's funeral as well, wearing a short-sleeved black dress that I bought the day before, gray hose, and black high-heeled shoes that annoyingly clicked as I walked. Most of my weeping had ceased by the time we had set off for the cemetery; I steadfastly refused to cry in front of everyone, especially Light, L's destroyer.

After the casket had been cautiously set down in the hole, I extracted a rose from the black leather purse I still kept. The rose's crimson beauty touched me so deeply, I fretted that I would commence crying again. Crimson, the very color, represented so much blood that had been shed throughout this horrific investigation. I wondered if it was even worth it to continue it any further, considering that our strongest ally was dead. For me, I had lost a brother. For the members of the task force (except that thrice accursed Light Yagami), they had lost an admirable colleague.

As I separated myself from the cluster we formed around the elaborate tombstone that was a simple yet appropriate cross, I sensed that every step I took practically quavered. The trembling lessened, though, and I became strong. I had to be—now, more than ever, with L in the hands of God.

"Goodbye, big brother," I whispered my childhood nickname for him as a single tear managed to caress my cheek.

Fortunately, most of the others had barely heard me, if at all. But, what truly struck me as frightfully creepy was the predatory gleam I espied in Light's eyes. Behind his act of a grieving friend, he secretly rejoiced over his victory. As he saw it, he could do whatever he pleased now. The task force members settled on agreeing with his suggestion if adopting L's name to maintain blissful ignorance to the general public, as well as to not arouse the suspicions of the police. Unsure of what to do, they just handed it to him on a silver platter, metaphorically speaking. This compelled me to contemplate whether or not I wished to assist with the case. But, I couldn't save L, so I knew that I had to break free. Truthfully, I refused to accept the fact I would work under Light if I stayed on any more days.

I slowly walked backwards to blend back into the gathering, allowing the men to take turns shoveling the pile of dug-up dirt back in the ground. All of us permitted a moment of silence to elapse afterwards in honor of the world's greatest detective who fell to this harsh world. In this dreary silence, everyone preferred to avoid saying anything remotely close to a eulogy. I guess most of us were still dumbfounded that the leader of this investigation lay six feet under us now. After for what seemed like depressing decades, Mr. Yagami finally possessed the audacity to speak.

"Even though we didn't really know him as a person, L was a brilliant detective, the best out of anyone I have ever met," he eulogized. "We did question his thought processes sometimes, but he did everything he could to solve this case."

"Yes," Aizawa stated simply albeit stiffly, when he recollected all the times he argued with L.

"I think he was the best damn detective we'll ever find," Mogi agreed, despite the fact that it was rare for him to converse with us.

"Agreed," Ide said, nodding.

"There won't be anybody quite like him." Matsuda departed from his awkward self to say this with such ardor as to abet L's character.

"We have lost one of the greatest," I summarized what all the others uttered.

Surprisingly, Light contributed nothing to our praises regarding L, but stood mutely as the gentle late afternoon breeze brushed his hair into his eyes. Birds chirped their songs while the rest of us inspected his condition, trying to figure out why he remained silent. His father construed this deathly silence as a sign of inconceivable misery, for he patted his son's shoulder.

"It will be all right, son. You did say you would avenge L's death, didn't you?"

A gasp caught itself within my throat as I struggled to grasp what the former police chief just said. How could this dastardly villain avenge the death of someone he himself killed?

At last, the college student assured Mr. Yagami, "I did. And you can count on it, Dad. I will find out who L's killer is and bring him to justice that's deserved. That way, L can rest in peace."

Lies, lies, all disgusting, deplorable lies! Severely biting my lip to contain my seething fury, I trembled slightly like a leaf on a windy afternoon. Again, no one noticed my sign of obvious emotion. However, if Light had, I didn't care. He probably had all the pieces of the puzzle locked together by now. I wished to confront him urgently and allow him to hear what I truly thought of him, that low blob of slime.

The others, of course, bought Light's explanation for appearing so sad for a supposed lost friend. Ugh, that impelled me to want to vomit. I also wanted the task force to see the lies that came out of Light's mouth every time he opened it. That would be real justice. Better yet, he could confess his sins, though that surely wouldn't save him from the place he would go to after his death. Maybe then, he could experience an afterlife filled with eternal melancholy and pain. These bitterly angry thoughts swarmed within my head before I observed that most of the task force (except Light, who still remained at his spot) departed for headquarters. I was prepared to follow them, when I realized that I could stay behind along with boy I strongly suspected (more like knew) of being Kira. I could hide, so that I can hear rants he might say to himself—anything devious that would certainly grab my attention. Then, this confrontation would start as planned.

I pretended to be on my way toward another destination as I fluidly concealed myself behind a tree. True to me expectations, Light commenced talking to himself...after bouts of ludicrous yet bone-chilling, evil laughter.

"You've lost, L!" he shouted victoriously as he went down on hands and knees to gloat. "You should have known better than to trifle with the god of a new world! I will make this place even better than it is now...since you're not in it. You were always in my way, L. But, you're dead, so I don't even have that any more. It's smooth sailing now! Those idiots at the task force—they're eating up every word I say!"

Thoroughly incensed at his words I appeared in order to yell boldly, "You still have _me _to contend with, Light Yagami!"

His previously glowing red eyes reverted back to their original brown color as they cast their vile malice my way. However, I held my ground and looked him unabashedly in those now untrustworthy orbs. This was the time to give my talking-to to the one person who ruined my life by two murders. My dark eyes stared him down as I addressed him in the lowest, calmest, and most hateful tone I had ever used.

"I know who you really are," I began coldly, "and I know what you did...and still doing. You are a murderer by true profession; you just prefer to pull the wool over most of our eyes."

Light continued to gaze at me back, quietly declaring his loathing and disdain toward me. Likewise, I felt the same way toward him.

"Light...you damned liar. You killed L, my brother, my hero. And yet, you show absolutely no remorse. Now, I know why."

In two strides, he approached me, roughly grabbing hold of my shoulders. I could smell his rancid breath and sense his bangs brush the top of my head. Aware that I was gradually venturing into dangerous territory, I kept my cool. I refused to display signs of weakness in front of him.

Darkly, he replied, "I had an idea who _you _really were for quite some time. It was so obvious that I'm surprised the others didn't see it. And you know what? Seeing that sadness and resignation in your brother's eyes as he died...I enjoyed every second of it."

Despite the sheer unladylike indiscretion of it, I spat ruthlessly in Light's face. A cruel man like him deserved such disrespectful treatment.

"He was very close to exposing you!" I abruptly raised my voice then lowered it as I added, "But, you still have a threat in me. You might have caught my dying brother, but you'll never see me falling submissively to you. I will fight you until your eventual death. Rest assured, I will prove you guilty and ensure that you get the death penalty."

My enemy merely chuckled in my face. "It's too bad I don't know your real name. But, let me tell you this. The next time I see you, I'll tell Misa to use her eyes to find out your real name. There will be no saving you after that. You'll end up being buried next to your brother."

In his unique, demented manner, he erupted into that stupidly creepy laughter again while I wrinkled my nose in disgust.

"You say you'll avenge L's death, too. Humph, it's ironic. After all, take into consideration that I will be the one to do just that—not you. So...let the chase begin. Light Yagami, you can try all you want, but you'll never catch me. A girl like me is very hard to come by; therefore, I was never one to become infatuated with you for fall for romantic clichés. Remember that when you decided you want to see me dead. I'm. Not. Easy."

With these rather cryptic parting words, I marched myself back to headquarters.

That night, when the task force members wandered toward their respective routs toward their homes, I quietly glared at Light through the glass of the window. I swore that even the normally kind stars sharpened their intensity tenfold, too. He seemed to know that I was watching him, for he bestowed a belligerent smirk as he stared upwards toward me.

"Smirk all you want," I muttered under my breath, "for when you die, you'll only show signs of defeat...I can only hope."

Before I retired to bed, I recollected my heated conversation with Light/Kira, especially when I informed him that I was not easy. I was no fool; I had observed the manner in which he treated Misa, as though she served as his puppet and he the puppeteer pulling the strings. It sickened me, and it only made me assume he used women in this aspect. And I assumed he would use that same method on me.

Despite my mood for sleeping, I could barely do so that night, mainly due to a hellish, agonizing nightmare I had.

I ran through the streets of Tokyo in this dream, carelessly pushing its citizens out of the way. Neon lights blended into the murk of the night, maneuverable motorbikes' engines revving along. Ignoring all these urban sights, I sprinted rather frantically toward something or someone. I discovered why I seemed so panicked when I stumbled upon L, his back facing me.

"L...but you're dead. You can't be here—it's just impossible," I told him, nearly dazed from my disbelief.

He said not a word, but instead turned around in order for me to register a horrific sight.

His ghastly white skin resembled that of a corpse, maggots crawling across his face. He proceeded to collapse as he did when a heart attack had claimed his life. I felt what little color I possessed draining from my face. An elderly male voice that contained a familiar, rich English accent proceeded to startle me.

"Victoria, you could have told us who Kira is," Watari informed sadly, "yet you held back. Why did you hold back?"

"I—I don't know, Watari."

With that weak reply, I staggered into a hard run again, searching for my two best friends. I needed to find them before they became victims, too. I was determined that they wouldn't share the same fates as my brother and Watari. I inanely stepped out into the street...

...And saw their lifeless corpses that contained tire tracks from busily passing cars. I barely believed that all this horror hardly existed when I woke up screaming frightfully.

"L! Watari! Matt! Mello!" I shouted their names anxiously before relaxing as I sensed the consoling pillow behind my back. Moonlight streamed in through the hotel windows, and safety gently washed over me.

"Damn it," I murmured sorrowfully, "why would I even dream such wretched things?"

No one answered my question, which allowed me time to blearily trudge toward the digital clock to examine the time: 2:45 in the morning. Heaving a long sigh that had rested within me for what felt like ages, I stared heatedly at the floor.

"I got to stop dreaming of dead parents and dead relatives and dead friends in the middle of the bloody night," I groaned, throwing the clock relentlessly on the floor. Though I endeavored to sleep again, I merely tossed and turned in my bedsheets until sunrise. The vivid shades that encased the sky brought no joy to me, no inspiration for songs like mornings usually did. Instead, pure, unadulterated wretchedness persisted with me, even when the meeting began two hours later. Here, I decided to announce my resignation from the case.

As anyone could see, it had taken a traumatizing toll on me, both physically and emotionally. But, it was more so that Light would head the task force that I opted to withdraw. I knew right away I would tire of his wrapping the members around his finger. Pointedly considering I saw him for who he really was (as Kira anyway), I would not, by any means, work under him. So, I managed to shock almost everyone when I unveiled my plans.

"I will no longer be a part of this task force," I spoke clearly, scarcely a quaver in my voice. "I find that I'm too attached to the case, with my colleague L dead."

"What?!? You can't quit!" Matsuda promptly protested, but Aizawa silenced him with a glare.

Sensing a pang of empathy when I noted the rookie cop's reaction, I continued as strongly as ever, "Believe it or not, I have been affected emotionally by this. I just can't continue any more."

This was partially a lie for two reasons—one: I wanted to avenge L's death as enthusiastically as before and two: if Light perceived me as a weak-hearted girl, he would lose interest. Of course, the young man in question backed my decision.

"I think it's a good choice if you leave, Utako," he said as he cupped his chin in a casual manner. His statement brought shock to the other members, though no one said nay when it came to this.

"Well, you were a fine addition to the team. We'll miss your presence," Mr. Yagami told me gravely.

Gulping down regret, I responded, "I will miss your company, as well. It was an honor to work with the finest task force I have ever encountered. Thank you, everyone."

The men stood up and exchanged goodbye handshakes with me, the last being Light Yagami.

"Arigato for your help, Utako," he stated, though an insincere glint in his brown orbs told me otherwise. I also told myself to buy anti-bacterial cream whenever I got the chance; touching Light's hand had never been an enjoyable prospect.

"Maybe you'll work with us again in the future," Aizawa stated optimistically.

"Bye, Miyazawa-san." Mogi waved casually as Matsuda joined, though the latter's wave was rather enthused.

Suppressing a smile, I carried my luggage to the lift alone and resolved to wave farewell back. Why not? I probably would never see them again.

"Sayonara!" I cheerily shouted, garnering wry smiles from the force.

And the doors closed, completing yet another important saga of my life. What always occurred to me, I asked myself as I strolled out the headquarter doors for the last time, when I said goodbye all the time? It never seemed to work out when it came to remaining firmly at one location. And, ruefully, that was another thing I shared with L.

"Number fifteen on my private list, don't you think so, L?" I asked the heavens above, presumably where he resided now. "If I find any more similarities between you and I, I will ask my creator to put in new parts!"

Perhaps I had picked up contagious optimism from my friend Matt, since I dared to joke like this at such an odd epoch in my life. But, maybe he had the right idea with his constant jokes. I missed him along with Mello....Wammy's. The spark had fired itself into a plan as I hailed a taxi cab to transport me to the airport. I would check on my two best friends who thankfully still lived in this world. Then, it could be like old times again, as though the Kira case had never started, Light had never come into the picture, L had never...

I sighed slightly, not bothering to finish that thought.

* * *

Familiar sights of the jolly city of London welcomed me as I departed the airplane. Vehicles followed the circular lay-out of the famous roundabouts, and when I wandered over to Piccadilly Circus, a double decker bus carried its passengers. Doves flew while the usual mist draped over the entire premises of the city, which truly was a beautiful place. Now that Christmas items that kept in theme with the tradition of being ridiculously early were set out at store displays, I concocted a cleverer plan than before. A fortnight prior to Christmas itself, I would drop by Wammy's to see Mello and Matt then. I liked that idea better than the first.

I suppose one could call this dilly-dallying, but the truth was that I felt somewhat apprehensive toward this. Sure, mere months had passed, but they seemed like years to me. And, during this span, my two dearest friends might have developed resentment against me for leaving, which was understandable. But, suppose I informed them of my participation in the Kira case? Would they harbor jealousy then?

Mainly speaking, as I took this all into account, I gave myself a London holiday. I needed a retreat to forget about the anxieties on my mind and also weighing on my conscience.

When I finally did come around to set my sights toward Wammy's House, it was the middle of December. Lush wreaths decked out for the season framed the bright bulbs of the street lights. Snow had fallen onto the ground by the inch, and the whole atmosphere screamed of Yuletide. Of course, the fact that my deceased brother would not send gifts from the heart this year depressed me. Christmas was totally themed regarding a celebration of family, as well as the Lord's birth. Why must the martyr of the Kira case, L, miss such a holiday? Only I answered this question bleakly: Kira had cruelly snatched him away from the world...

....Forever.

So, I did set off for the orphanage when I embarked on a train at King's Cross, in the hopes that maybe I could ensure Matt and Mello's happiness...despite my severe lack of the emotion.

In a stride that inevitably conveyed of forced gaiety, I bustled toward the door of my old abode. With an enthusiastic knock, I waited while bearing gifts: a recently released video game for Matt and chocolate for Mello. Hopefully, their preferences still remained the same. I had always doubted myself when it came to selecting presents for people I cared about.

Roger opened the door whilst I busied myself on wondering what the reunion would consist. His grim expression expelled all such whimsical thoughts.

"V Lawliet...it most certainly has been quite a while."

The caretaker reminded me of a certain animated dog with a saggy countenance and monotonous, almost whiny voice. He radiated of a grave air that frightened the youngest orphans...not a grandfatherly sort, so much unlike Watari in every possible way.

"Roger," I replied somewhat stiffly, unaccustomed to him responding to knocks, "I have just returned from an excursion. What, may I ask, is the problem?"

Yes, my accuracy for reading thoughts served me well in this case.

Roger sighed wearily, as though he carried ill news, which could serve as the issue. That was usually what he contributed; in fact, I could picture him as a coroner or a mortician instead of a guardian of orphans.

"Mello ran away from here two days ago. And...I was notified that Matt disappeared as well, most likely to follow him. That occurred yesterday."

"Oh."

That one-syllable word escaped my lips, the gifts promptly falling from my hands onto the stoop. So much for our reunion. So much for everything that might have turned out for the positive in my life. Yes, "oh" to that crushing disappointment that descended on my like a tsunami wave.

"I will...I will just be on my way now," I elaborated, subdued after these dead hopes. After this inept farewell, I started running, praying that it was just damp snowflakes in my eyes.

* * *

**A/N: OK, the cartoon character that V is comparing Roger to is Droopy Dog, 1960's cartoon dog, in case anyone asks. And, ha, Light got spat in the face by V, oddly enough. How do you like that?!? He deserved that for killing L, I thought, though that definitely wasn't planned--the spitting, that is. I apologize for another crappy dream sequence, especially since this chapter was already morbid enough as it was. And for stuffing British references in one section. You're lucky I didn't mention fish and chips. XP**

**Anyway, OVER 1000 HITS TO DEALTHY, WOOOOOO! You guys are awesome! And over 100 hits yesterday, wow! Can't believe it, and I'm very excited. Thanks, you guys! This'll be updated...hm, possibly Monday. **


	15. Reunion

**A/N: Hey, guys, thanks to a reviewer of mine this chapter is up earlier than I said it would be! XD But, I will update Tuesday or Wednesday, since I'm updating more than I'm typing...again. But, here's chapter 15, fight scene included...**

**Disclaimer: Don't own anything except V.**

* * *

**Chapter 15: Reunion**

Immediately after the devastating news sent to me by the dour caretaker of Wammy's House, I flew to Los Angeles. I don't know why I wished to go there, but it was better than both Tokyo and London combined. Those two cities merely contained ill reminders of my past, and I intended to forget it. As I blankly stood in the midst of the bustle in a Los Angeles airport, I noticed all the tan faces pass me. Some wore smiles, others studious frowns; even families ambled along, teeming of radiant bliss. If only I had such a family now or a friend or, desperately, a stranger—just anybody to guide me through this nightmarish agony. Solitude that I once welcomed oppressed me to the point that I longed to will it away.

Devoid of optimism, I escaped the airport crowds to walk miles and miles into the heart of Los Angeles. Emotionlessly walking past tropical palm trees, I thanked fate or the controller of this universe for the plentiful money I possessed. Roger had stopped me when I attempted running from Wammy's yesterday to give what my brother left for me in his will. Generous L had granted me extensive amounts of pounds to spend on anything, not just for survival. He was always wont to shower me with the best. I proved myself rather frugal, though, by buying myself a modest apartment in my current location.

After this, I resided in inevitable seclusion due to my desire to simply be alone. A brother's death can affect any sane person's psychological state of mind. I had fallen victim to such an incurable illness as that, my friends also not being there with me. It just took an emotional toll on me, I guess; I never imagined this overwhelming anguish to torture me. Pain served me as a constant shadow that darkened horribly with each passing day. I even consumed ice cream eight times a day now, spooning the treat to douse my grief. It's difficult to recover from a loved one's death. You can't exactly say that unless you know from experience, believe me. Because of this profoundly emotional impact, I sensed my habits becoming erratic. For one thing, I couldn't write a single song after the incident. It was as if the creative well within me that had pleased me for so long dried up like a cornfield after a draught. My passion grew evanescent and sadly died.

Whenever I strode to the nearest grocery store, I would buy pistachio ice cream along with cookie dough and rocky road flavors. I utilized the pistachio pint, the one flavor I detested, to punish myself. That is, until I unfortunately discovered one long night in the bathroom that I was allergic to them. Talk about self-deprecation at its lowest. I blamed my ill luck on irony, which was really a harsh mistress.

Nearly two years passed as the creative slump, the quality time with my two other best friends named Ben and Jerry, and constant telly watching continued. Every day elapsed in such a tireless, monotonous boredom that practically drove me mad.

Even playing _Final Fantasy _didn't alleviate my constant need for excitement. After three hours of playing a day, a neighbor complained to the landlord of how I yelled, "Stupid Cloud! Stupid, unsexy Cloud!" over and over again.

Believe it or not, that hadn't been me, I informed the landlord; the severely strong lungs belonged to a ten-year-old girl. She asked me if she could borrow my game, to which I emotionlessly responded in the affirmative.

Goes to show you to trust little girls with your T for teen rated video games.

Still don't believe me? The girl's mother lectured me on irresponsibility to infect her daughter's brain with such fantasy trash. Yes, my life had become odd for a time, despite the sorrow of my situation. The plight of the video game also compelled me to regret not renting a classy hotel room for myself. If I had decided to follow through with that plan, however, it would be easy for Light to track me down. He would corner me in the aforementioned hotel room and kill me with his pen and Death Note. Truthfully, I wasn't prepared to join L in the afterlife just yet. My life's purpose suggested that I avenge his death, which I would ensure to do. With that in mind, I tolerated the simple idiocy of some of my apartment neighbors, whose remarks on my weird habits I ignored. Back at the orphanage, the other children often commented on my weird ebony eyes and unkempt dark hair. The fact that I ate ice cream all the time contributed to the comments, too. I ceased to care once I turned thirteen.

Of course, I narrate absentmindedly. As I said, practically two years elapsed with such simple living. In fact, I even resorted to greeting my neighbors whenever I entered the complex after ten minutes' grocery shopping. I had completely settled with my new life, my optimism gradually returning to me. Here in sunny Los Angeles, I didn't have to think about death or notebooks or Kira. I could move on with life in general, dispelling all wretched thoughts of my past. Recovery would arrive more quickly in this manner.

But, peace and tranquility can never endure for long.

It seemed to be a normal Tuesday evening when this event occurred. Hauling brown paper grocery bags, I strode through the alleyway to the cheap apartment complex.

I never made it. For, the revving of an engine echoed throughout the alley, luminescent lights accompanying the distracting noise.

No, I didn't die. Would any of you honestly think I would let myself die by motorcycle?

Thankfully, though, I leapt out of the maneuverable vehicle's path before I became too stunned to move. The grocery bags tumbled from my grasp, pouring twelve pints of ice cream onto the asphalt below. Meanwhile, I briefly inspected my hands for any cuts or bruises; I found a small cut on my left palm, but that was about all the damage I had taken.

"Oi, watch where you're going next time, you git!" I shouted, utilizing British slang for once. And I only used that when I was severely angered or when I felt like it. The motorcyclist appeared to disregard my fury by merely walking toward me at a painstakingly slow rate. His helmet covered his face, so I knew not of his identity, which was all the more unnerving. I avoided speaking as I attempted fruitlessly to figure him out, studying his clothes in order to grant myself answers. Alas, I felt too stupid to even recognize this man, though instincts told me otherwise.

Just as he suddenly stopped in front of me, I inquired of him, "You're not who I think you are...are you?"

Before I could deduce further, he lunged at me, his hands poised toward my neck.

"Oh no, you don't!" I retaliated with a high kick aimed at his chest, which caught him immediately off-guard. He crashed against one of the dumpsters, but regained himself by punching me in the jaw. Before I collapsed entirely, I flung one hand on the agonizingly painful asphalt to catch myself. The stranger seized this opportunity to grab me by the arm. However, I kicked his leg out from under him to prevent him from following through with his unknown plot. Firmly wrapping my hand around his neck before he fell on his back, I murmured, "Who are you?"

No words eluded his mouth, though he did snort in a rather disdainful manner.

"I said who are you?!?" I loudly repeated, my eyes staring him down.

Finally, the enigmatic motorcyclist finally permitted a somewhat familiar voice to betray him. "Do you honestly have to ask that? And you were supposed to be so smart, too."

He had inadvertently confirmed my earlier suspicions, to tell the truth. "I knew it. I was just ensuring that I knew. Why approach me this way?"

"You're coming with me," he informed me gruffly.

"Like hell I am," I whispered as a retort to this order.

We proceeded to fight with all the energy we possessed, hurling punches as though our lives depended on it. I flung kicks at the not-so-strange visitor that correlated flawlessly with my brother's capoiera style of fighting. He had indeed taught me well. Unfortunately, I started to sense my strength and prowess ebbing, which brought about a vague flashback of mine to surface.

"_I could have taken them on, you know."_

"_You could have, but you wouldn't have lasted long."_

These two previously said sentences resounded in my head as he, one of my best friends, dragged me to his motorcycle. I struggled all the way, endeavoring to put up a grand fight. Kicking and trying to wrench myself from his iron grip, I became even wearier. At that point, I was forced to set my feet on the foot pegs of the motorcycle.

Everything blurred into one as Mello slammed his foot on the accelerator of his vehicle. People deformed to blobs, buildings transformed into just blocks, and I became dizzy from all the blood rushing to my head front and center. It didn't help that my motorcycle enthusiast friend promptly went through stoplights as though they implied nothing. What was even more eerie was the fact that he drove us through a desert. Sand swirled around us after the wheels distributed it. The gritty substance managed to reach the corners of my eyes, which burned them to the point I assumed I would lose them. Ten minutes elapsed like this in which we sped through the California desert.

Just when I expected Mello to drop me off in the middle of nowhere, a mysterious door opened. It lifted seemingly from the sand to display a dark opening that my current captor drove through and landed expertly. He turned off the ignition soon after, taking off his helmet to reveal his face. It still held his distinct features, though his blue eyes possessed an almost demonic gleam to them, maddened with greed and power.

I wondered how Mello came upon these qualities he had never had years previous.

"Like the hideout?" he asked casually, looking at me as I remained perched on the motorcycle seat. "Being in the Mafia has its perks, you know."

I admit that I did feel somewhat surprised at this bit of news. Mello's street smarts had always gotten him far, but I never anticipated him to resort to gang activity. And why would he even join the Mafia in the first place?

Stiffly appraising his demented smirk, I replied, "That's quite a drastic change for you, Mello. And I have several questions to ask you."

The sneer quickly distorted into a displeased snarl. "You always wanted the answers, V. Never one to appreciate the finer things in life—no wonder everyone thought you were weird."

"If the 'finer things in life' indicate a shabby hideout, among other things, then I'm not too impressed. Just answer my questions."

"Fine!" he spat bitterly, gripping my hand rather tightly as he dragged me to the main room of his headquarters.

Mello's associates appeared unfriendly, to say the least. Promiscuous girlfriends sat next to a couple of these men, who took swigs from their beer cans as though life was merely that to them. They coolly acknowledged me with nods, if that; one of them was eyeing me in a much too predatory manner.

"I got L's sister," Mello, who seemed to be the leader of these horrid people, announced. "She might help us get Kira, and, more importantly, one of those notebooks."

Intrigued at this prospect of having a Death Note within their grasps, the men chatted avidly, albeit drunkenly, amongst themselves. I mutely watched them as my inward questions had been answered with that simple explanation.

Mello saw me as a pawn instead of a friend, a pawn who could help obtain a Death Note. He didn't care about saving the world, just his own lust for power that seemed nearly insatiable. If that was what he truly desired, I refused to cooperate with him. Sure, my loyalty toward him existed, but a line had to be drawn. If his plot succeeded, he would start killing people, Near probably being among the victims. And if push came to shove, I would opt to prevent my friend from becoming another Light Yagami.

I would even steal the Death Note if I had to in order to try destroying it.

"I wonder if fire could work," I mused under my breath, though I doubted I could destroy the blasted thing. Unfortunately, Mello grunted as he glanced over at me.

"What did you say?" he inquired in a very low tone, his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"I said that maybe we could find Kira's location and set that place on fire."

"Too risky," he replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. "He'll kill us for sure if we did that—never mind, though. Come with me."

Once again, Mello gripped my arm until I thought it would commence bleeding as he guided me deeper into the slipshod hideout. We walked through a corridor that leaked from the ceiling and (I swear) had an occasional rat or two. At the end of it were barely safe stairs that lead to a door that held on by rusted hinges. Mello opened this door and released me.

While I massaged my aching arm, he told me, "You're going to stay here until I can think up something useful for you to do. Or...maybe you wouldn't mind telling us where we can get Kira's Death Note. You did work with your brother, right?"

I kept the slight dilation of my eyes under control. How did Mello discover that fact? Then again, he had the connections, so there could hardly be any doubts.

"I won't say if I did. I'm not stupid, Mello."

"Well, I know for a _fact _you did. You abandoned us to work on the Kira case, didn't you?"

I sighed, folding my arms across my chest. "No, it was originally meant to be a vacation."

"Liar! But, none of that matters right now. If you want to avenge your brother's death, you are going to do whatever it is I ask you to do! Got it?!?"

Mello decided to not give me time to respond as he abrasively slammed the door in my face, practically tearing it off its hinges. Some things would never change. I blankly gazed at the door for a few minutes. In those minutes, I reflected on my plight, wondering what to plan for my next objective. I knew for certain that I couldn't stay here, for I would be a hypocrite if I did. L would never have wanted me to work with the Mafia, much less use the Death Note. But, my loyalty to my friends was at stake, a trait I preferred not to sacrifice. Thus, I found myself at an inevitable crossroads.

At a complete and utter loss, I deliberately turned around in order to note the details of my current quarters. As I did so, I thought I heard the sound of gloved fingers pressing buttons of a certain gaming device.

"Matt?" I whispered softly, hoping for the best of circumstances.

From the other side of the bed, a red head, darkened with age, perked upwards and the button pressing temporarily ceased.

"Hey, V," he grinned as though it had regressed to old times, "haven't seen you in a while. And you still didn't send me that postcard. Tsk, tsk, what should I do with you?"

I started laughing lightly and proceeded to walk around the bed to sit next to Matt on the floor. We then conversed regarding Japan.

"It's beautiful, Matt," I gushed over the country. "You should see it some time. Even if my experiences there were less than perfect."

Matt's emerald eyes glazed over after he listened to my opinion of Japan. I guess he briefly pondered over my words.

He proceeded to reply with, "Yeah, I bet it's great."

That seemed rather simplistic coming from him, but he was always a lazy person, even when it came to talking. I sank against the bed, propping myself up on my elbows, contemplating over what to say next. Wondering why Mello changed served as a major factor in this. Why was he so crazy, on the verge of raging insanity?

"What's happening to Mello lately?" I inquired, murmuring to the redhead beside me. "He seems even less sane than when I saw him last."

Matt promptly lit a cigarette after my observation, watching the smoke drift steadily higher once he popped the nicotine stick in his mouth.

"You know, a year ago I just would have blamed it on his personality. But, actually...it's because Roger suggested that he and Near work together after L died."

"What an idiot," I muttered sourly, referring to the headmaster of the orphanage. Of course Mello would spiral out of control if something like that ever occurred.

Relaxing languidly as he resumed playing his game, Matt said rather apathetically, "Took you long enough to figure that one out. Look, here's the bottom line to this. Mello thinks that getting this Death Note thingy or whatever is the only way to catch Kira, or kill him. And he thinks that you, L's sister, are the answer to all our prayers."

I scrambled awkwardly onto the worn-out bed to prepare for sleep, though I uttered a few more words. "I'll tell you right now that I won't take part in any killing."

"OK," Matt drawled, withdrawing into his bored, careless state that I now disliked, "piss off Mello. I'm just along for the ride. But, seriously, V, is he right when he says you ditched us for the case?"

Was that suppressed resentment in his voice? I fretted over this potential dark side before sleeping.

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**A/N: I didn't say this would be a happy reunion when it came to picking the chapter title. Oh, and sorry for that random part with the little girl playing V's video game. That was way too out there. 0_0 Hm, and Matt's a little OOC in this one, but I'm guessing loyalty means a lot to him. And for someone supposedly disloyal like V... Oh, and Mello's not being very nice obviously. That's why you shouldn't join gangs, guys! XP**

**Next chapter is not gonna be pretty, I'm telling you that right now. Review please! **


	16. Conflict

**A/N: Well, after leaving you on a slight cliffhanger last time, I'm back! XD Unfortunately, this chapter is sad...well, it made me sad writing it anyway. I even teared up yet again at one point. You'll see what I mean.**

**Warning: There's a little more cursing than usual in this chapter due to Mello's potty mouth. XP Just thought I'd put that out there.**

**Disclaimer: I only own V, and that's it.**

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**Chapter 16: Conflict**

It merely must have been the ashy cigarette fumes that impelled Matt to say his borderline bitter words, for he was friendly the next morning. When I asked him if what he said yesterday implied anger, he answered, "You're worrying too much, V. Sometimes, I just say crap that doesn't make sense. I'm guessing Mello's bad vibes are contagious—trust me, I'm normal again. Weird me is bye-bye."

"OK, I can only hope that that's true," I replied with a semi-concerned smile.

On that note, we coincided splendidly together in the room we shared, talking and exchanging sarcastic jokes. It was like childhood days revisited with him.

Ruefully, I could hardly say the same for Mello, who recently possessed a deranged glint in his eyes that increased every day. He adored the life of a mob leader, ordering his men about as though inferior to him. Incessantly, he ranted about obtaining a Death Note and bringing Kira to his death. Once, I dared to question his authority, which displeased him beyond all reason.

We were alone in the main room, the gangsters long since departing to gain money by robbing, harassing rival gangs, drug dealing, etc. I had asked if I could have a word with him, to which he bestowed a restless stare to me and paced back and forth.

"What do you want?" Mello asked in an extremely irked tone. "What is it that's so important instead of focusing on our goal?"

Obviously, approaching him had already irked him, which seemed all too simple to do. I knew that adding a question to that would annoy him further. But, he had to hear this, especially from a rational mind. Judging from what I witnessed, Mello had lost all sensibility—that is, what little he possessed to begin with.

Suppressing a weary sigh, I said placidly, "If we are to bring Kira to justice, we need to find judicial evidence first. Otherwise, if we take your rash ideas and utilize them, we could very well end up in prison...or dead."

"Pfft, you're starting to sound like Near!" he scoffed with a condescending snort.

I figured he would react that way, but I was merely getting started.

Resolving to elaborate on my theory for Kira/Light's demise, I ignored his mockery at my words as I replied, "If you have possession of the Death Note, Mello, you will be no better than the man who is Kira. I have seen for myself the accursed madness it causes. No, in my opinion, we use Kira's Death Note as evidence in court. That way, Kira eventually dies by the electric chair or lethal injection or whatever. And, best of all, it won't take much hassle."

The blond chocoholic looked at me like I was stricken with insanity. As be hit off a piece of his chocolate, his blue eyes distorted into that far too common glare. To say the least, he loathed the fact that I dared to defy him.

His pacing transformed into feverish strides, the biting and swallowing of chocolate becoming more and more persistent with each second. And, I realized, he didn't care. He didn't care regarding heeding everybody's suggestions. Immersing himself in his own beliefs and ideas, he would shut out everybody in the world if necessary. For, regretfully, I knew Mello for such extensive years that that kind of behavior on his part was almost predictable. In the years since I left Wammy's House, it actually worsened with age.

As I placidly waited for a response, I noticed that those luminous orbs bulged out of pure fury.

"Are you stupid?!? Why would we trust the government? That's something Near would definitely do! Do you want to avenge your brother's death?!?"

It seemed lately that Mello preferred to bombard me with questions. But, that last one contained particular significance; of course I yearned to avenge L's death. When I had resided in my apartment, I even tried communicating with the Japanese police via e-mail. I was aiming for utilizing a similar method that L had tolerated. However, when the Japanese police force saw my single letter V, they immediately dismissed me as an imitator of my brother. It was degrading, and it resulted with me receiving no cases or promotions. So, inevitably, I couldn't bring Light to justice from the privacy of my apartment. I became frustrated with myself.

For Mello to accuse me as lacking in motivation to avenge my brother's death infuriated me as I glared back. I had tried everything I could without getting killed; every attempt had failed. Why would I even resort to settling on Mello's reckless ideas? They were so unreasonable that they would surely result in death. And I would never allow him or Matt to die on that account—they were the only tow important people I had left.

"Don't bring L into this," I hissed, seething with exasperation toward the blond. "I know for certain that he would disagree with your plans, too."

His ever expressive eyes dilated incredulously. "Sh—shut up!"

Of course, since I stated a valid opinion, Mello could only utter an immature retort.

With a glance that contained a mixture of exasperation, sorrow, and fury directed at him, I strode briskly from the room to my quarters. At that moment, a sense of dread washed over me. It was a kind of dread that you receive when you know something terrible will occur. It might not happen that day or the next, but you know it's coming. And, possessing this apprehension for the future, I became unfortunately frightened. Luckily, Matt hardly detected this horror when I sullenly closed the door behind me.

"There's nothing to do here," he complained in a bored tone. "I just beat this _Mario _game for the eighteenth time. What am I going to do, V?"

I couldn't help but smile as I pointed to his obsolete Sony Playstation console that sat nearby.

"For starters, you could hook that up, and we can play a two-player game in which you let me win...again," I replied cheekily, even adding an innocent grin.

Matt laughed breezily at that comment. "Nice try! I don't even have a TV here."

"Then why'd you bring your console?"

For some reason, this compelled him to laugh even harder. "I care about it too much."

Since his mirth seemingly contained a contagious virus, I joined in with my feminine giggling. Honestly, though, I couldn't really pinpoint that exact reason why we laughed.

I guess we enjoyed each other's company, like we always had.

As much as I hate to divulge it now, the omniscient sense that loomed over my head was there for a reason. A week later, Mello resolved to take matters into his own hands. For one thing, he was losing patience when it came to locating Kira. Apparently, he had spent a year just trying to find the serial killer and failed dismally. For another, Mello craved for a Death Note achingly—in fact, it was a destructive addiction for him, the desire. Constantly, he kept rejecting his own plots to obtain it while gobbling his chocolate. But, after all these months, he finally materialized (in his own opinion) the perfect plan.

"We're kidnapping Soichiro Yagami's daughter next," I heard him declare during my eavesdropping. Soon after, I felt my heart freeze before sinking like the _Titanic_.

Yagami-san already had suffered through accusations that his son caused countless deaths in Japan. To discover that Mafia members had kidnapped his daughter Sayu would be another tragic blow for him. Frustrated anger coursed through me then that Mello would enact this to lure Light...or, more probably, force Yagami-san to give him the Death Note. It was a dirty tactic that practically sickened me to my stomach. Would my friend even follow through on his vow? I fervently prayed not.

Regretfully, fate rebelled against my wishes when Mello requested that his men kidnap Sayu and take her to the hideout the next night. They, of course, followed orders.

The next command issued forth from my blond friend's lips was addressed to me after the Mafia men placed the girl in an isolated room. I had been talking to Matt regarding video games that I had seen in Japan before Mello himself entered.

"Hey, I've finally thought up something useful for you to do," he informed me, a demented smirk playing at his lips, "and it's not arguing with me."

"Interesting," I responded coldly, still miffed from the previous week's debate. "What, pray tell, will be my task?"

His teal eyes glinted even more disturbingly than usual, his sneer widening. "You're going to keep an eye on the Yagami girl. You know, to make sure she doesn't do anything stupid."

I reluctantly complied with this demand, for I was hardly in the mood for bestowing rage to him again. Mello in an ill temper was very tiresome indeed. But, when I followed him to the room, where two other gangsters stood on sentry, I stifled a gasp.

As Mello walked off as though nothing important was in this room, I took in the appearance of this poor girl. A gag stuffed her mouth, her hands and feet tied rather tightly to prevent her from escaping this nightmarish place. Why would they, these cruel followers of a sadistic young man I swore I didn't know, torture a girl close to my age? I nearly reeled from the harsh senselessness of it all. Sayu Yagami had never known of her brother's tyranny, for she was blissfully unaware when wire taps had been in the household during the case.

So, here we were: a sister of a dead yet most adored detective staring blankly at a sister of the detective's rival who still lived to kill. Yet, I sensed no tension that rivals adapt between us. As far as I was concerned, we were two victims caught up in this dangerous game that was the Kira situation, one of which that changed our world. If we had truly known each other, I could have befriended this girl...if we were under different circumstances at a different place and at a different time. But, no, we had to suffer because of what had gone on with our brothers. And, the worst, most tragic part of it all was that her brother killed mine without her awareness. She had previously lived the life of a normal teenage girl.

I gulped down a lump that seemed to have clotted itself within my throat as we stared at each other. Thinking about all this made me want to cry—everything through my eyes looked unjust, unfair, and a world I actually felt thankful that L never got to see in these recent times. He would have despised it as much, if not more so, as I did. I pitied this girl eyeing me desperately, begging me to release her from the atrocity that she found herself caught in, like a fish in a net.

For some reason I can't explain, even to this day, I softly told her, "It's a shame that we meet under these circumstances. I wouldn't wish this on anybody, especially you. We could have been friends, but we can't. For, you know not of my name, and I barely know yours."

Most definitely, I was cryptic in speaking this, though I saw tears glow in Sayu Yagami's doe-like brown eyes.

At that moment, I forgot about my duty and headed for the open doorway, longing to escape seeing this miserable girl suffer. It would be inhuman of me if I remained here anyway.

"Hey, where you going?" one of the irked gangsters asked.

"To talk to Mello," I informed him stonily. "I need time to right now."

I must have satisfied him, for he didn't elaborate on his question. Since I was slightly more important to their boss than them, they would never dare to hurt me. In this respect, they were like those irritating hoodlums that bothered me years ago at Wammy's.

When I found Mello, he was talking on the phone with Yagami-san, negotiating with him on terms regarding a certain exchange: the former chief's daughter Sayu for the despicable Death Note. That was the last straw. I would give my (former?) best friend such a lecture that he might consider regretting his increasingly idiotic actions. Once he hung up his cellphone, I bravely approached him.

"What the hell are _you _doing here?" he questioned testily. "You're supposed to watch that little Yagami b—"

"Save your breath until we're in my room," I countered, my tone at its iciest.

We ascended the shoddy stairs rather rapidly, since both of us basked in our fury. The tension between us was at an all-time high, and I felt relieved to observe that Matt had actually wandered off somewhere. I didn't wish for him to witness our impending argument. After stealthily closing the door behind me, I merely stared at Mello for a couple minutes to maybe let this invisible heat simmer. However, his brows knitted together with restlessness, so I had no choice but to start our conversation.

"Mello," I coolly addressed him, "you have gone too far this time. You decided to resort to kidnapping a girl who's confused beyond repair in order to get what you want. Is it worth it?"

"How would you know? It's not like you've witnessed its true power!"

"Oh, but I have. For, it was its power that killed my brother."

This last fact silenced Mello, for he gaped at this news. Of course, he knew that L died yet had remained unaware of the cause of death until now. I thought that this sign of bewilderment was a breakthrough. Perhaps he would listen to reason.

Unluckily, he deemed his sly concoctions that were plans to be righteous, thinking them the only ways to reach his goals. This affected his ability to think clearly, and it also severely detracted from his genius.

"That might be true, but I'm going to use the Death Note for certain purposes that could help us! I'm nothing like Kira!" he shouted, angrily biting off a piece of his chocolate.

"You mean your purposes. Listen, Mello, when I say that the Death Note brings nothing but madness to its owner, I'm perfectly serious. You're going to become addicted to its destructive power like you're addicted to your chocolate. And soon, you won't be able to stop it. You'll be..."

I trailed off when I sensed a pang of depression stab through my heart, aware that Mello would order me to say the rest. My sharp tongue was evading my wishes again.

Sure enough, he growled barbarically, "Finish that sentence. Come on!"

Heaving a breath as though it were my last, I murmured in a subdued fashion, "You'll be just like Kira."

Irrepressible quietness filed the room, which alleviated me in the hopes that my friend would calm down. He had needed to hear this for so long.

But, of course, when Mello heard something he expected yet loathed to hear, he blocked it out using immaturity. Sadly, this was one of those times.

He had looked at me so calmly with glazed blue eyes, as though pondering over this painful, undeniable fact. I had assumed he realized the error of his ways at last. That is, before he seemed to rely on what little self-control he possessed to resist lunging at me; I knew the insane yelling would arrive approximately thirty seconds previous.

"Shut the hell up!!!" he nearly screamed (or male equivalent). "You think you know so much, because you're a damn Lawliet! It didn't get your brother anywhere, because guess what, V?!? He's dead! And you didn't do a d—!"

Before he could shout any more harsh words, I placed all my fingers on one hand to his lips to halt them from moving. And, honestly, my fingers had almost formed into a fist, but I dared not punch him. As much as I abhorred his attitude, I could never physically hurt him. However, I wouldn't let him off that easily.

"I told you not to bring my brother up," I uttered each word deliberately in the most lethal whisper I had ever used. "It is irreverent to the utmost degree. Furthermore, you insult him despite wanting so desperately to carry his legacy. Is it because of your rivalry with Near?"

Without speaking anything aloud, Mello nodded.

I continued my frigid lecture. "Well, I'll let you in on a little secret, Mello. I was going to carry this to my grave, but I feel now would be appropriate. You were never to be the successor...at least not the immediate one. My so-called friend, you will always be number two. Get over it."

Often, when fierce wrath grips our hearts, we say things we do not mean. When I behaved so icily to Mello, I barely recognized my own voice. For once in my life, I was _cruel_...to one of the most important people in my life! Oh, how I would regret that later.

"Th—that's not true," he whispered before raising his voice. "You're lying!"

I could have stopped the unkindness right there, for I swore that Mello headed for an emotional breakdown. It had been his life's work to conquer Near, to be number one. And to hear me divulge what L informed me ten years ago—it weighed down upon him. But, no, I insisted on resuming. Call me all the nasty names in the world.

"It is, and do you know why it is indeed true? Ten years ago, my brother told me himself."

That destroyed him, utterly desecrated his entire soul. I swore that he even longed to cry, for what I told him was just terrible in every sense of the word. After hearing this, Mello let out the most heart-wrenching yet frustrated roar ever in his life before threatening to strangle me. His hands aimed right for my throat.

"You're gonna regret what you just said, Lawliet!"

Before Mello executed his incensed action, Matt stepped into the room. Once he did so, he actually dropped his handheld and didn't bother to pick it up. I knew that since this normally never before seen action occurred, things had become terribly serious.

"What's...going on?" Matt questioned, first turning his gaze to a flustered Mello then to wide-eyed me.

"I'm out of here," Mello muttered gruffly under his breath, more to himself than either of the two of us, though he added to his male best friend, "Ask her what's been going on. She started it."

As immature as that statement sounded, it resonated some truth; this fight had been my fault.

My eyes drifted miserably to Matt, who still stood as though he had been transformed into a statue. I studied his green eyes behind his goggles pointedly, searching for what emotions he might feel at this moment. But, there was absolutely nothing I could determine.

He strode towards me before stopping just mere centimeters from where I stood. "What's with you, V? You're always arguing with Mello now—I even heard you two argue."

My mouth fell open before struggling to close. "What—? How—?"

"I was under the stairs, and I heard every word."

Mello, who had remained here listening (for he did have a curious streak), merely snorted.

"Matt, you really need to stop eavesdropping. As for _you_"—and here, he glared at me as though he wished to murder me—"you need to learn to shut up once in a while. That mouth of yours is going to get you into serious trouble, believe me."

With these cranky remarks, he slammed the door back closed to the point that it finally fell off its hinges. I, in the mean time, seemingly felt nothing. Just a numbness that seeped into my soul, preventing me from emoting; I didn't feel like myself at all, frankly.

Staying inside this character I hardly recognized, I harrumphed out of disdain. "Good riddance. He was getting annoying, a trifle on my nerves, don't you think?"

Currently, I did detect something in Matt's eyes that I had never seen before: anger.

What was such a great deal that he would lean that way?

"No, I don't think that. Seriously, V, what is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me?" I stated his question back to him incredulously. "I should ask what's wrong with Mello. He went too far this time, Matt. He kidnapped an innocent girl. That is not the so-called justice my brother would have wanted. And you—"

I was shocked when both of his hands clamped down on my shoulders. "Listen for one second, will you? Look, loyalty is a big thing with me. You know that. So, why did you ditch us for the case?!?"

He asked that damnable question again, and he had raised his voice. I felt unnerved, but I wasn't going to show it now. I would have rather let my heart freeze.

His attitude toward life had always consisted of facing the world in an upbeat, casual demeanor. However, Matt looked tense, uncharacteristically so, and he was suddenly proving he possessed a hidden fiery redheaded temper.

"I never planned on ditching you two for the case. And you know that. Are you honestly going to take Mello's word over mine?"

Turning away from me, appearing imposing for once with his cigarette, he seemed to contemplate over my words. What he said next bother shocked and incensed me.

"If he's telling the truth, then yes, I would."

Matt had never proved himself somber until this moment, when I secretly fretted over my world—our world—falling apart. I realized that the Kira strain nearly rendered our trio of friendship shattered. Unfortunately, I decided to selfishly focus on my pride.

"How dare you, Mail Jeevas? How dare you say such a thing? Mello is clearly near his breaking point sanity-wise. He lied to you. He's trying to mess with your head."

"You're pushing him to his breaking point!" Matt shouted out of exasperation. "I heard that damn argument and—you know what? Just get out!"

If my heart was constructed entirely out of glass, I would have died. Feeling almost dead inside, I cast my eyes downward and spoke to him in a highly frozen manner.

"Fine, I know when I'm no longer wanted. Goodbye, Matt...forever."

And, trying not to betray my true emotions, I strode past him and through the doorway.

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**A/N: Ugh, the end of this chapter was just painful for me! And I myself couldn't believe half the mean stuff V said. My mouth literally dropped when I realized what I wrote. But, the truth is, our heroine is rather torn up at the moment, but since she has pride problems...she prefers to pretend being cold. And Matt yelling at her and Mello yelling at her...oh man. Not a happy chapter, especially since I had "Paperthin Hymn" by Anberlin stuck in my head when typing this yesterday.**

**It's far from over, though! Tomorrow, something will happen that just might make you guys happy. XD Sunshine is around the corner!**


	17. Regret

**A/N: Another chapter of DEALTHY to treat you with. ^_^ In it, well, I'll say that lessons are (finally!) learned and though it's heavy, it gets gradually more light-hearted. A POV chapter by the way in Matt's.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own anything other than V.**

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**Chapter 17: Regret**

As V strode past him, Matt glimpsed a haunted, injured look in her eyes that implied that she had suffered through immense pain in the past. Did her brother's death trigger all of the sadism she appeared to have used? He sighed, merely watching her walk away from him and out of his life for good. He figured he should have been apathetic, so why did he feel like part of him withered away with her departure? Then again, the V he remembered would never have intentionally attempted to hurt him and Mello like that. She wouldn't even tell him what had stricken her. Regretting his lost patience with her, he proceeded to play his video game in order to push her away from his mind.

He lost level one. How could he lose level one at a time like this?

Of course, blissful memories always come at the worst times; he remembered playing his console game with V and how he had willingly let her win. How she had beamed. How she had laughed that pretty laugh of hers.

Matt cursed under his breath and shut his handheld off. Not even the intriguing world of gaming could solve his problems today. If not, then he supposed that cigarettes could abet in the task. Dragging one out of the box, he took out his cheap lighter and carefully ignited the end of the cigarette. He popped it in his mouth and allowed the rather stuffy fumes practically suffocate his nostrils.

Her eyes appeared within his mind just then, rather large in size, though they did look cute on her, especially when she would look at him inquisitively. But, she wasn't here right now. She was gone and would be until the end of time, judging by what she told him in her farewell. These thoughts resulted in Matt dragging his cigarette out of his mouth thirty minutes earlier than usual. So, he resolved to take out another one.

"I'm gonna go through these today," he predicted in his somewhat lazy, slacker accent.

He was right, for he smoked an entire pack that day just so he could stop remembering V. But, every time he inserted another cigarette into his mouth, he inadvertently brought up another memory of her. These memories followed in succession until he recalled the moment she left Wammy's, her attitude coming off as unsure, even reluctant.

"She didn't want to go...," Matt murmured to himself, realizing that his other best friend Mello had erred in his assumptions. V merely sensed that it was her duty to abandon the orphanage due to her age. It had nothing to do with Mello and him, after all. If this was the case...he had made an awful mistake. He had had to let her go out on her own once; he didn't plan on doing it again.

For some crazy reason he himself barely understood, he cared about her. That was the reason why. With this firm resolve, Matt discovered himself running down the stairs with more energy than he had ever exerted before.

As soon as he reached the main room, where Mello and his henchmen had assembled, he shouted at random, "She didn't want to go!"

When he followed his declaration with a grin, everyone gave him strange looks. His chocoholic friend as well as partner in crime seized his shoulder to forcibly lead him back to his room.

"How weird do you plan to be?" Mello interrogated Matt. "The Death Note is coming in two hours, and you're talking about your latest video game victory."

"It's not a video game victory. I just realized that V didn't mean anything she said."

The crazed blond furrowed his brows at the very thought of L's younger sister. "Are you saying she said all that crap to me, because she was upset? Why would she even be upset?"

"Um, dude, maybe it's because you're going crazy."

"You're lucky you're my best friend. Otherwise, I would kick you all over the place right now."

Matt pretended to wince, though promptly focused on calming Mello down. "Look, I'm just saying that V probably regrets what she said to both of us. I think she's hurting, and I plan to bring her back here."

Musing over his words, the blond remembered how icy V's tone was. And she only preferred to act cold when something deeply troubled her. Maybe Matt had a point.

Finally, Mello seemed to relent by responding with, "All right, all right. Bring her back. I don't care just as long as she doesn't pull anything else."

Did his voice resound of...relief? Matt shrugged his shoulders briefly, slightly confused as to what Mello truly felt. Really, there was no telling with that guy. At least he bestowed his permission, and it proved to satisfy.

Feeling like himself again, Matt flashed a grin that implied his time of reflection had concluded.

"Well, in that case, Link is off to retrieve the divine Princess Zelda."

Mello punched him in the arm. "You'll never stop being weird, will you?"

The comical redhead retained his stubborn smile as he shook his head in the negative. His mood had improved, what could he say? And honestly, he saw his idea to convince V to return here as a quest from an epic fantasy RPG. Maybe, though, that comparing himself to a persistent elf with a bow and arrow was stretching it a little far. He could hardly deny the similarities between a strong-hearted princess and V on the other hand. She possessed an unbreakable will all her own that he always admired...and she looked cute, too. But, he leaned more toward the unbreakable will, definitely.

"Why are you doing this anyway?" Mello interrupted with another question.

Matt's grin faded until it became a more subtle, sincere smile, which he disregarded as he replied, "When you like someone enough, it tends to make you do weird stuff that you never thought you'd be doing two years ago. You know what I mean?"

"No, I don't. Now get out of here before I change my mind!"

Pleased with the outcome of the conversation, Matt grabbed a cigarette to go and descended the stairs to head over to the garage. This hideout amounted to so much that even a garage existed inside. And, with the help of a master remote control that Mello kept constantly, the door of it could be controlled among other features. As soon as Matt eagerly yet breezily strode inside, the lights immediately flipped on. Motorcycles, for the most part, were parked in the garage; the gangsters preferred that method of transportation to intimidate their rivals. But, one special vehicle stood out.

A lollipop red convertible parked among the motorcycles in the garage beckoned to Matt like the shed light of a harbor lighthouse. He readily walked toward his pride and joy, having his purpose set in mind. And that purpose consisted of driving around the while vicinity of Los Angeles to find his girl. Even though she could be anywhere in that enormous metropolis, or even on a plane en route to London, he would search for her. Even if it resulted in the elapsing of days, weeks, or months, he would check every nook and cranny for her. For her, he would go to the ends of the earth...because honestly, he possessed so much affection that he would.

He opened the car door and flopped down on the driver's seat, all the while admiring the perfect leather interior of the vehicle. After three to four months of owning this, Matt still couldn't believe that he stole it. That rich guy didn't even know what happened at the time; he was having a little too much fun at that party, probably alcohol being provided. All he, Matt, had to do was turn the key in the ignition (since the rich owner had misplaced his common sense, too) and drive off into the ebony night. Thankfully, he did possess a driver's license...a counterfeit one. But, the LAPD seemed to pull over drunken celebrities and rich people most of the time. That squad would disregard a nineteen-year-old kid with a fake license.

Matt flexed his gloved fingers on the steering wheel, which he eventually gripped with a strong determination that was usually not there in a lazy individual like him. But, if determination meant persuading V to realize that he would be the happiest gamer kid in the world if she came back with him, he would give it his all. Lowering the windows of the car slightly, he lit his cigarette—maybe not a smart thing to do, but he could care less. He wanted to focus on his current task.

Now, if Mello would cooperate and open that garage door...

Hearing that sweet sound of the garage door opening, Matt turned the key in the ignition.

"V, I'm coming," he stated with his largest grin/smirk yet. "Don't get too mad."

As soon as he said this, he drove off at sixty miles per hour through the desert.

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**A/N: Well, well, Matt's finally decided to play hero. XD I decided to have him make a game reference, since he's so obsessed with video games. Yeah, he's a bit of his normal goofball self in this chapter. And Mello...well, he's not all the way cured, but he definitely is less of a jerk than he was. What will happen in the next chapter? Haha, only I know that! But, Friday will come for all of you to find out.**

**For now, review please! **


	18. Conciliation

**A/N: Woo-hoo, it's Friday! And that means this story is updated. Yet another reason to enjoy Fridays. Anyway, I better let you guys read this chapter--I guarantee that you will love it!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Death Note, only V. Yet again.**

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**Chapter 18: Conciliation**

It started raining cats and dogs by the time I reached the edge of Los Angeles. The dark night threatened to swallow me whole as I deftly crossed a street with developing puddles. Truthfully, I was amazed that I even managed to travel this far in one day—walking through the desert seemed to last forever. I wouldn't recommend undergoing such a trek by the way, even if you harbor wretched emotions toward someone. But, as I trudged through endless sand, I started regretting my words profoundly. Why did I even speak to my best friends in that manner? They surely must have utterly despised me as of late...and I wouldn't blame them a trifle bit. Perhaps our friendship would shakily come to a close, leaving me fully alone without anybody in this cruel, hateful world.

Mello would already be holding a grudge against me, I assumed darkly. If not, then he would have forgotten me altogether and obsess over getting the Death Note. That would become reality very soon, if he played his cards right. As for Matt—well, I wished to avoid thinking about him right now. The two of us had actually shared our first argument, which still stung when I recalled it. He was the one to tell me to leave. There was no hope for what I longed to occur between us. And what I wanted was...

I shut my eyes tightly against the pouring showers, avoiding that subject. In my opinion, it was best to evade dreaming things that would remain impossible.

My navy hooded sweatshirt seemed to weigh a ton, dragged down by the soaking wet of this horrid weather. My jeans and sneakers hardly fared better. I began to shiver, privately predicting a frightful cold in my future. My infernally long raven bangs hung limply in front of my face, so that I could scarcely see where I walked. To say the least, I was soaked to the skin, lacking everything in the world right now. I hadn't even eaten ice cream before I ditched the hideout, and I usually did before leaving my apartment back within this city. Because of this, my alertness lowered, replaced by heightened weariness from the absent sugar. It became so terrible for me, I narrowly missed a car when I sprinted (more like limped) across the street.

Yes, I was a perfect wretch, and I ached for shelter or any such refuge.

I discovered the safe haven in an unlikely place: a telephone booth. Eking out on what remained of my decreasing energy, I opened its door to come inside. Luckily, since it insisted on raining so bloody hard, I doubted no one would feel the inclination to use the phone. However, I realized that I indeed required some assistance, just to seek some location—I didn't care where. I could be temporarily residing in a hut in Zanzibar, and I would be highly content. Anywhere to escape this depression, dampness coupled with emotional pain, I wished to run to. So, I resolved to go through my inward list of options.

OK, first off the task force members...unfortunately, that was out of the question. They had fallen under Light's charismatic spell that could lure them to their gradual deaths like a mermaid's song. This also ruled out Light, who aspired to kill me anyway if he saw me again. No thanks. Hmm...perhaps Misa-san could help me—no, not good. From what understood before L's death, she had returned to killing criminals. Besides, she was much too closely connected with Light, and she could have been currently living with him for all I knew.

That left my friends, who would shirk any potentially helpful hands away from me. I knew that for certain. Then again, I supposed I could return to the orphanage...

In my dreams! I would rather live with cannibals than the sinfully envious orphans again. I was of age anyway, too old to be in an orphanage according to British legality. Clutching the phone in my quavering hands, I impelled my fingers to hover over the buttons to desperately dial Watari or L. At that point, my mind became frantic in its thoughts to the point that it had forgotten that those two never had phone numbers. Furthermore, those two, the dearest people in the world to me, were dead, killed by merciless, revolting Kira. A revelation came to me full-force then, stating the reason why I behaved so erratically to Matt and Mello. I hadn't come to terms with my brother's or Watari's death, still blaming both of them combined on myself. I could have done something to save them, warn them—I lost it right then and there.

The phone made an agonizing racket as it banged against the glass of the booth, suspended by a mere cord. It was my fault for everything wrong in my life, forget Kira. _I _jinxed my two dead loved ones, leading them to their murders without warning them of Light's power. Helpless and alone for once in my life, I huddled in one corner of the booth and proceeded to sob. There was no one to turn to for aid now. Tears streamed down my face like the rain outside, which compelled me to recall another thing. Every time a turning point that usually destroyed part of me came, torrential showers would fall. I wasn't sure if the weather sympathized or hated me due to this not amusing irony.

Enshrouded in my pain, I ignored whoever decided to open the booth door as my sobs gradually ebbed into only weeping. When a hand touched my shoulder, I nearly bumped my head against the neglected phone.

"V," a warm, familiar voice welcomed, "we meet again."

Oh, no—tears stained my normally ensured calm face. I couldn't be seen like this; my raging pride dared not allow it. So, I took the coward's way out by concealing my face with my still soaked sleeve. The same hand that had rested on my shoulder gently pulled my horrid countenance toward its owner.

Brushing back stray hairs that plastered to my hued cheeks, he whispered while wearing his eternal smile, "You're so proud... You won't even let anyone see your tears. Geez, V, I knew you had pride issues, but this is ridiculous."

I held back a laugh that probably would have come out as a sob as I cautiously leaned toward Matt, who draped one arm around me. He acted so casual regarding this, yet I felt as though my face would turn into a tomato ready for a Caesar salad topped with ranch dressing. Well, I do detest tomatoes, but that's beside the point. My emotions were a turmoil within my heart, threatening to impel yet another sobbing episode. When Matt noticed this, he looked somewhat concerned, though proceeded to wrap his other arm around me.

"Tell me all about it," he murmured casually.

Funny, how he ended up being the only one to ever see me cry.

Crying out my problem of blaming myself for the fatalities of Watari and L, I told Matt that my refusal to come to terms lead me to my repulsive behavior today. Even though I had buried my face in his shoulder, I sensed he listened to every word, and I swore he placed his lips to my hair. I couldn't be certain, though.

Once I concluded my summarized story, he stated gravely, "You shouldn't have even bothered blaming yourself. It's obvious Kira did that, and that's why he's still a big deal. Trust me, we'll get that idiot."

Stunned at his seriousness, I jolted my head upwards to meet his gaze. "Who are you, and what have you done with Matt?"

Obviously, my eyes must have dilated, for he started chuckling and adoringly ruffled my hair. Oh, how I loved that!

"I'm still here, Princess Zelda. Don't worry about that."

"Princess Zelda?"

Matt sighed in mock hopelessness and shook his head. "It's a long story."

A content silence passed between us as I wondered why he had come back for me. What I did to him and Mello was foolish; in my opinion, they should have left me out here.

Meanwhile, I looked deliberately at Matt when I lifted my head only to observe that he eyed his soggy cigarette with dismay. However, he grinned like the ludicrous Cheshire Cat once he noticed me looking at him.

"And I smoked all the way here, too! That's the good thing about stolen vehicles. They provide perfect smoking shelter."

"OK...so you imply that you came here in a stolen car?" I asked in a slightly bewildered manner.

"I've actually 'owned' it for four months now," he explained, tossing the cigarette casually aside after picking wet ash off it. "It's a real hot rod."

I smiled again after he bragged about his car, which must have been an expensive convertible. Of course he would steal something like that.

Serenely leaning back against Matt, I resolved to finally pose the question that I had been dying to ask. "So...am I forgiven?"

"Yeah, definitely by me—I don't stay mad too long. Though Mello...he's kind of iffy about it, but I think he forgives you, too."

Heaving a sigh of relief, I murmured, "That's good to hear."

"Yeah..."

A longer yet still placid silence intruded while my thoughts averted to more important matters, ones I was unsure about addressing. Reflecting on my meditation when I trudged alone in the rain, I recognized that one unique topic stood out.

I had fruitlessly attempted to escape love, to avoid developing an infatuation with Matt. But, now that we were here, practically stranded in a telephone booth in the midst of a storm, I could hardly deny it any more. The emotion I felt currently had settled within my heart for years, a decade even. All the while I bravely endeavored to slay it like St. George killed a mighty dragon in that legendary myth. Yet, this situation frightened me into holding my tongue and not confess the truth. I loved Matt—I always had and would continue doing so after my death, whenever it may come. In the past, he had made ma laugh and feel approved, as though I could do anything without him despising me like the other orphans.

Sure, this was similar to my friendship with Mello, but that was just that: a mere friendship. With Matt, I sensed these spine-tingling, beautiful emotions that I never felt around anybody else. I guess he really brought out me, the true V, who possessed a sharp wit and cared more profoundly than her peers ever deemed possible. And, most of all, we basked in all the fun moments we shared. I yearned so anxiously to tell him just how extensive my feelings for him stretched. For, he meant the world to me, and I hoped he could return my sentiments. Oh, how I hoped...

As I summoned my courage by embracing Matt, I enjoyed the feel of the soft fabric of his brown vest against my cheek. It was damp, but felt exquisite.

"I love you," I whispered in the most loving tone ever.

To my crushing disappointment, he didn't utter anything in response, which compelled me to speculate. Then again, I dared not study his facial reaction. But, what if he loved somebody else that I never knew? Or, worse, what if his apathy had severely kicked in? I worried, fretted, and worried some more.

Then, he simply stated, "Let's go back."

Great, I blew it tremendously. All my dreams shattered, my heart breaking right along with them. Please don't let his anger emerge, I prayed fervently.

But, really, what could I do? Depression and I went hand in hand.

I opened the booth door to wander outside first. As irony would have it, rain fell, though the thunder and lightning ceased. This shower was persistent, but I realized now I didn't care. Not even the admittedly impressive red convertible I espied (Matt's car) could awe me with its presence. My already drenched shoes worsened as I trudged through puddles emotionlessly.

I should hardly permit this to destroy me, so why was it? Suddenly, leather brushed my hand, proceeding to grasp it gently.

"V," Matt addressed me, so that I could stop my walking.

I had barely turned around to face him when his soft lips touched mine. Yielding instantly, I enjoyed this sensation that came once in a lifetime: the first kiss. No wonder the orphan girls at Wammy's obsessed over receiving one! Everything regarding it was perfect to the last detail. The scent of the rain mingled with the ashy aroma of his cigarettes smelled so good...and his wet bangs plaster to my own seemed like heaven on earth. I could die happy if this moment happened to be the last. This already lengthy kiss strengthened in passion as I sensed Matt grinning into it, whereas I smiled my widest. We broke apart then, my arms remaining coiled intimately around his neck. I could tell that we both enjoyed the kiss. In fact, we leaned in for another one before Matt broke it this time.

"I know this has been amazing," he started, "but I don't plan on getting mono. It _is _raining, after all."

I giggled, bringing my hand into the crook of his arm while we walked to the parked convertible with its top up. He opened the passenger door first.

"Ladies first," he drawled, mocking politeness.

"Now you're just being too charming," I joked in return as I eagerly strapped the seatbelt. I had fully prepared to go back to the hideout without any protests. We headed back to the location, conversing as though my second emotional breakdown in practically two years had never happened. We gave each other blissful laughs when we contributed jokes to inject some spice into the conversation. Now, we were lovers as well as best friends, and I was confident that we could keep that balance.

"So, Matt, why did you come back for me in the first place?" I inquired at one point in our lively talk.

He ensured to keep his eyes on the road as he answered, "It kind of resulted like in those movies when the girl is like, 'Oh, I hate you—I'm moving out', and the guy then knows he messed up. This scenario was exactly like that."

"But, was it more? I'm...I'm just curious."

Appearing to think on that, he snapped his fingers once the right response came. "I guess it's that I realized I loved you since I was a kid...and I didn't want to lose you."

I couldn't resist my cooing when I let out an "Awwww." This reaction made Matt chuckle, though he managed to idealize a retaliating remark.

"Look, V, I want to be considered cute as in handsome, not cute as in an adorable puppy. Scratch me behind the ears now, I dare you!"

Slyly pretending to, I noted that he jerked his head away yet focused on the road. I laughed with effortless enthusiasm.

"You have an ego!" I exclaimed, clapping once to signify my amusement.

"And you're too cute. That's a problem right there!" he joked as an almost counter defense strategy. Matt was just so unbelievably funny that I thanked fate for once that it allowed me to fall in love with him. And, better yet, he seemed to adore me, judging by that kiss in the rain and those constant jokes.

As he proceeded to drive through the desert, which marked the home stretch for the ride, Matt took out his cellphone to call Mello. "Hey, Mello, Princess Zelda is returning to the castle. Repeat, Princess Zelda is returning to the castle, over."

I thought I heard protests regarding that weird announcement from the other end before he hung up.

"You know, Matt," I informed him quietly with a small smile, "I wish you'd stop calling me Princess Zelda. In a way, it's rather unnecessary."

He glanced at me for a fraction of a second. "Then how about Princess Peach?"

"No!" I bit back a laugh, nearly chewing my bottom lip.

"All right, Miss Pacman it is!"

A stream of giggles eluded me due to Matt's insistence on being so ornery. And yet, it seemed to bestow to him an irresistible personality. I could never refuse him.

"Right back at you, Donkey Kong!" I retorted blissfully, which made him laugh along with me.

"I didn't say _you _could start calling me weird nicknames," he responded.

By the time Matt drove us to the garage of the hideout, tears of mirth brimmed my normally calculating eyes. But, being around him was never tiresome. Of course I would live every minute with him to the fullest.

After we exited the convertible, I assumed footsteps slyly approached from behind me. Just as I turned around, Matt grabbed me and resolved to carry me out of the garage.

"Matt!" I groaned jokingly, lightly batting his arms. "Why are you doing this?"

"To make sure you don't run away from me again," he told me as though he commented on the weather.

I laughed as I replied, "I won't! I won't! Now put me down!"

When he followed my request, we merely gazed at each other, and I noted how green his eyes were from behind his goggles. Matt kissed me on the forehead, and with that, we set off to talk to Mello together.

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**A/N: YAY, MATT AND V ARE OFFICIALLY TOGETHER!!!! XD This called for putting that in all caps, trust me. I've been so psyched posting this chapter that I couldn't wait til Friday. So, I grudge that there were probably some unrealistic little things in this (like V walking through the desert in one day...then again, I didn't name a specific time nor how long the desert stretched from hideout to city). I don't know. But, anyway, yes, this was the mystery pairing I had come up with. I guess the secret's out now.**

**For the record, Matt's an Aquarius (I think) and V's a Gemini. The ironic thing is I looked up V's sign the other day and found that Gemini and Aquarius are compatible. So, see? Even the stars said they were meant to be together!...in my story, that is.**

**Well, R&R! Should be updated tomorrow. After that, I seriously gotta learn to type faster. ^_^**


	19. Recovery

**A/N: OK, guys, this story is going to get happier for a while to make up for all those depressing chapters I wrote (poor L TT_TT). Unfortunately, they're shorter due to the fact that I had ran out of room in my notebook at that time and switched over to lousy loose leaf paper in a binder. For some reason, I couldn't write small then because my pencils sucked. D: So, sorry about that. Also, I've kind of reverted back to the day in the life format that this story had in the first four chapters.**

**Disclaimer: No own Death Note. Not even an actual one, which I would NEVER USE EVER! So there.**

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**Chapter 19: Recovery**

Mello managed to forgive my indiscretions, though ensured to add that this was barely executed. Meanwhile, he finally had the Death Note in his possession after the trade-off had taken place. I was just relieved that Sayu could finally be freed from her imprisonment. Nonetheless, I think that the Death Note proceeded to cause ill fortune for us. Another shinigami named Sidoh showed up, but he didn't seem as intelligent as Rem had seemed to be. On the contrary, he was rather stupid. The least he did for us residing in the hideout was to frighten a group of invaders sent by the American president. To a new hideout we relocated in the hopes that no one would intrude again.

Yet, this was what Mello wished—Matt and I could have cared less. After all, we had discovered our love for one another, so we treated it like fine wine. Intoxicated from it in a blissful manner, we ignored what would happen. Life, as I saw it as of late, was too short for fretting over the future. I preferred to depend on a "one day at a time" philosophy, similar to that of Matt's. In this respect, we complemented each other very well as a couple. We brought each other laughter, as well as the best qualities in each other.

Oh, and I reflect on this in such a dreamy way! And isn't it slightly too coincidental that I had regained the ability to write songs? Yes, love can serve as vastly inspiring...but not all of my new songs spoke of romance, mind you. Never mind, I forget that had headed toward a grave, depressing topic. So, as I narrated before the inevitable tingling sensation of love rendered me giddy, the Japanese task force found out about our location. According to Matt, who managed to espy those familiar people, they wore armor and prepared to retrieve the Death Note that Mello possessed. I immediately knew that this was Light's idea to annihilate both me and Mello in one go. The ensuing battle became extremely violent; luckily, I warned Matt, so that we escaped. From our vantage point, we concernedly waited for our best friend. He, thankfully, emerged alive, though suffered a facial burn that would result in a scar. Defeated agonizingly, he merely ordered us in a rather weakened tone to seek an apartment.

When we finally found someplace to settle, Mello informed us rather heavily that he witnessed one of his men kill an important man from the task force. I gulped miserably when I realized that Yagami-san had passed away. He didn't have to say any more, for I figured that the admirable former police chief had died. This was so tragic beyond comprehension.

"That baka Light," I later muttered to my friends, "dared to unknowingly condemn his own father to death."

I didn't eat much ice cream that night due to grief—not as strong as when L died, but it served as my empathy toward Yagami-san's wife and daughter.

After I had been locked in what I claimed as my bedroom for approximately half an hour, Matt resolved to offer me moral support. I granted him entry, and we simply conversed like we usually did. Putting on another rarely serious face, he told me that he could understand that the loss of a colleague would affect me this profoundly. He then gathered me into his embrace, which lulled me to sleep. At that moment, I agreed with the scientific studies that heartbeats are indeed comforting, for they remind people keenly of being in the womb near the heart. So, I counted Matt's heartbeats that doubly helped me to sleep.

Mello set off for the SPK to get a photograph of himself that Near possessed, leaving me and Matt alone in our apartment. But, honestly, that aided in a speedy emotional recovery on my part; the sorrowful thoughts regarding Yagami-san's passing soon dissipated. All this occurred within a space of a week—it's still rather difficult to grasp. When Mello returned almost a fortnight later, I suggested grocery shopping to stock up in our provisions. The chocoholic, though visibly subdued since the last hideout's explosion, objected so passionately to this that I merely shrugged. I figured he didn't want to shop, even for food...but he did need to lay low for a while, so that sounded reasonable. Matt didn't mind and mentioned that he would accompany me, much to my inward ecstasy. He definitely would serve as a fun shopping companion. However, I didn't expect the odd events associated with the following morning to happen—life's surprises and all that.

"Princess Zelda," Matt's voice addressed me in an almost sing-song manner, "it's ten o'clock in the morning—time to wake up.'

Of course, he was well aware that I detested that nickname, thus why he preferred to use it all the time. Annoying me was his specialty, which compelled me now to wonder why I allowed him to sleep beside me. Then again, he irritated me at sporadic moments, so at least it wasn't habitual. However, this _was _morning, and I had felt the urge to sleep in today...until I realized the grocery shopping needed done.

"Shove off, Link," I murmured in retaliation, literally shoving Matt off the bed.

"Ooof! Geez, you didn't have to be that harsh."

Gazing at me with a mock reproachful look in his eyes, he placed his hand to his head, pretending that I injured him. Amused, I lazily crawled across the bed to assess him, not because I thought I hurt him, but because I wished to gloat.

"You'll live," I assured him as a smirk rose to my lips. "I bet you weren't expecting that, now were you?"

He held up two fingers instantly after my bragging rights concluded. "I've got two words for you."

"Oh, and what would they be?"

That sly fox snatched a pillow from the floor and announced with bravado, "Eat pillow."

Sure enough, the pillow practically flew in my direction, though I caught it with a nonchalant grace. Matt proceeded to grab yet another pillow on top the bed, but I deflected his attack. At one point during our fluffy combat, he did bat my head; I was not to be deterred. I aimed my weapon at his chest, and off the bed he toppled again.

"Enough child's play," I directed, despite my ebony eyes glowing avidly. "We have shopping business to attend to. And we won't accomplish it with a mere pillow fight, will we?"

"Aw, you're a total fun killer," my boyfriend joked in response, but it was done out of sheer affection for me. He even gently ruffled my hair to assure that this was a joke.

"Why do you enjoy messing up my hair?" I inquired, curious as to the secret's details.

"It's just so soft and fluffy. I don't know—I just like the feel of it." He shrugged innocently.

We ate breakfast (his consisted of bacon, mine vanilla ice cream) before we set off for a supermarket somewhere in Tokyo. The three of us returned to Japan, Mello calling Matt beforehand while the former was in the United States to tell the latter to tail three certain people. I was given the same directions, though Matt and I were asked if we prepared to accept our responsibilities. We both agreed without second thoughts, for we remained loyal to Mello. Besides, he seemed saner than back in the first hideout. For now, me and Matt, officially Mello's accomplices, strode to a supermarket. Surprisingly, it was rather tedious, what with getting junk food and the like. I considered strawberries, but they reminded me too strongly of my brother.

My redheaded beau looked bored as well, judging by the manner in which he struggled not to take out a cigarette from the box in his pocket. It was when we emerged from the market did he seem to perk up. I soon knew why.

"Ah, gaming store! Right across the street, too—how convenient is that?"

"Convenient for you, apparently," I replied, wearing a bemused expression.

"Come on, V, let's go to that place!"

He dragged me to the gaming store, and we went crazy. Matt especially was like a kid in a candy store.

"Oh, _Halo 3 _came out!" he yelled at one point, snatching a copy of that game. "And so did this one...wow, I've been stuck in a gaming cave."

I decided to buy some games myself just to pass the time and entertain myself. They did help in building strategic skills, after all. But, one item stood out that awed Matt beyond compare, which really made his day.

"X-box 360...the god of all recent consoles...I'm not worthy! I'm not worthy!"

Just when I thought he couldn't become any weirder, he proceeded to bow in front of the boxes that contained that console. Personally, I deemed the Sony Playstation 2 to be the "god of all recent consoles." Oh, well.

Before he could escalate into melodramatic respect for that particular X-box model, I lifted Matt to his feet by the shoulder.

"You are rather excitable today, Matt. And you are indeed worthy."—here, I stifled a laugh due to his strange mannerisms—"Besides, the Nintendo Wii is also out. You've always adored the Nintendo consoles."

"I've heard about the Wii, believe me. Ugh, exercise! So overrated," he drawled, unlovingly referring to what I mentioned.

I shook my head in disbelief. "You'll always be lazy, won't you? Nope, you haven't changed."

"Yeah, isn't that comforting?"

Matt's emerald eyes drifted to me while I in turn appraised his glance of overall sincerity. It was almost...sweet of him to stare at me this way. I was the only one who ever received this kind of treatment from him. So, yes, him never changing did comfort me. Most children change in personality over time, but not him, not really. Serving as one of things I loved about him, I appreciated this rare trait of him never altering in personality. An eternal gamer slacker—that was perfect for me.

"Definitely," I finally answered. "Now let's take all these to the check-out lane."

We did, and, as it turned out, we spent much yen. I won't specify how much.

Ten minutes later found us playing _Super Smash Brothers Melee_, which I bought for Matt's Gamecube. He desperately wished to play _Halo 3_ instead, but settled for my choice in true mock grudging fashion. To humor him, I opted to play as Princess Zelda who at least turned into Sheik. Matt chose Mario.

"Oh, come on, Matt! Come after me with your big, bad hammer!" I taunted, fully rapt with this game—thus, the reason I picked it out of so many games without much contemplation.

"Don't underestimate the power of the hammer, V."

And with these words, he defeated me. I predicted my usual loss, but playing this with Matt was worth it all the same.

"OK, the hammer is all-mighty," I confessed, which boosted his cockiness considerably.

However, he did object to one trait of mine that I possessed, though with his joking tone, of course.

"You're too gracious to be a sore loser."

"I know, but it's a trait worth having. Mello, on the other hand..."

Matt chuckled. "Don't even get me started on how he takes game losses."

And, speak of the chocoholic, he entered our humble apartment and gaped at all we bought at the gaming store.

"How much freaking yen did you waste on all that crap?!?" he yelled.

Divulging the exact amount, Matt beamed when his friend erupted like a volcano.

After the tirade, Mello managed to calm down and snacked on a chocolate bar to speed up the process.

"I've been needing one for too long now," he grumbled, though only five minutes had passed since he had eaten the last bar.

"Yeah, I bet. I just hope it isn't spiked with anything illegal, if you get my drift." Matt winked cheekily, typical for him.

"Matt...you're really just a sly—"

"Now, now, don't take this out on him. We both know he's demented," I interrupted.

The redhead feigned disbelief toward what I told Mello in order to soothe the blond. "Oh, way to stand up for your guy, Princess Zelda!"

"Sorry, Link. By the way, I know how much you hate that nickname."

Matt turned to Mello to brief him on this weird situation. "It's true. I always thought that Link was way too persistent. Why else have they made thirty _Legend of Zelda _games...or about?"

"Then you won't call me Princess Zelda any more?" I asked purely, clasping my hands and practically giving him puppy eyes.

"I guess not...though it was so fun. Guess I'll have to come up with another nickname for you."

I gulped while Mello looked back and forth at each of us. Finally, he smirked with a scoffing (or laughing?) snort. "You guys are such nerds."

And, from him, that was a term of endearment.

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**A/N: For the record, I have never played an X-box 360 in my life. However, I really wish I could play Halo, so you guys who have those games are SO lucky. Seriously. And I'm with V in thinking the PS2 is awesome cuz that's the only gaming system I've got. And I only think the Wii is OK, because of the boxing I played at a friend's house. Right. Oh, and Super Smash Brothers is da bomb!**

**Yes, I had V use a little British slang again. The only way I know it (the slang, that is) is from reading Harry Potter. XD I knew that would serve me well one day!**

**Finally, I forgot to tell you guys about the perfect song for V/Matt. It's called "Good Enough" and it's by Evanescence. If you've never heard it, check it out on Youtube or something. It. Is. Amazing! And the music video for it is phenomonal.**

**OK, I'm done now. Reviews please!**


	20. Spontaneity

**A/N: Well, here's chapter 20, everyone! Thanks to those who reviewed: I have 50 reviews now! That's the most I've ever gotten for a story thus far, so thanks. And this will be updated Tuesday--the curse of the sucky, not fast enough typing has gotten to me yet again!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own the franchise, just the OC. I'm holding her hostage...OK, not really. But, hey, I gotta think up of ways to spice these disclaimers up!**

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**Chapter 20: Spontaneity**

For the next two weeks, we separately traveled on missions to tail Aizawa, Mogi, and Misa. It was a trade-off we agreed on: I would follow Misa one day, then Aizawa the next, etc. It made me consoled in the knowledge that we could focus on avenging my brother's death again, even if I had to carry out this menial task of watching these three people from afar. And, considering two were my colleagues and one my (believe it or not) female comrade, I had to disguise myself. After all, they probably would recognize me, Mello informed me, and the objective was to avoid getting caught. So, I donned a blond wig, shades, and clothes I bought at a store not too far away from our apartment.

"You know, V," Matt told me before we wandered outside one time, "you look hot as a blonde."

I blushed, though mostly out of unadulterated humiliation for appearing so stupid and phony; personally, I blamed that on the wig.

"Well, the fact of the matter is I prefer the hair I was born with, and, I would suggest you start liking my raven hair. For, undoubtedly, I will discard the wig once it's served its purpose," I retorted crisply, staring at an artificial strand I held with my repugnance

"Oooh, aren't we touchy?" Matt responded, but chuckled all the same.

"Get going, you two!" Mello scolded, his head poking through the doorway. "We got work to do, and unless you don't shut up, Matt, I'll steal your cigarettes."

His mouth falling open out of sheer disbelief, the redhead protested to what he deemed a cruel threat. "Ah, no way! Do you want me going cold turkey? I might not be the nicest guy in the world any more if that happens."

"Oh, scary," I teased before dragging him by the collar, using my sharpened, fake nails.

I am veering off topic here, so allow me to merely say this. The three of us busied ourselves in "stalking" people (so Matt jokingly titled it) to the point that not all of us stayed in our apartment at once. Usually, I returned early due to the fact my wig started becoming a nuisance; besides, my pride couldn't be cured in a day. We did this for a while until Matt conveniently entered the apartment kitchenette one evening, while I treated myself to crafting a sundae.

Diminutive cups of toppings that I neatly organized sat by the half-gallon in my possession. The flavor of today: chocolate, of course, for I adored it so much more than vanilla when it came to sundaes. Whipped cream, chocolate syrup, and a bowl of cherries had been set out by me as well, not to mention a banana. I found myself in the mood for a super dessert of epic proportions. Here, Matt strode into the scene.

"That for me?" He pointed to the bowl of ice cream that I just scooped.

"Not hardly," I retorted, opening the chocolate syrup bottle's cap.

Slowly wandering aimlessly about the kitchenette, he peeked into each of the three cups that contained M&Ms, sprinkles, and chopped walnuts. Lastly, he looked at the bowl of cherries, which seemed to make his mouth water. He could be starving for my dessert, but I wasn't willing to share. Really, I was equally as childish as my brother when he had been alive. I guess my ice cream creation served as a sort of edible homage to him. Meanwhile, Matt continued to pester me with his appraisal of the chocolate ice cream and toppings.

"You sure you don't want to share with me?" he asked, leaning across the tiled island, his lips inching wider into a crafty smirk.

Glancing up from the bowl of my sundae base, I returned his smirk and enthusiastically shook my head. I would hardly yield to my boyfriend at this rate. Truthfully, I merely wished to toy with his patience for just a few more minutes.

"Come on, just one little bite," Matt implored, his tantalizing lips approaching mine. "I'll kiss you if you let me have some of your sundae."

I laughed impishly, placing my hand into the cup of walnuts. "No, never."

"All right then..."

And he flicked the particular cup, which happened to have its contents spill over on me. The walnuts had proceeded to topple on the floor. As I stared at the now filthy topping, I considered my options when it came to retaliation. If Matt leaned that way...

Holding the bottle of syrup like an obscure weapon, I squirted the sticky essence of it onto Matt's shirt. He had been too busy chuckling at his clever tactic and was caught off-guard by the substance. Looking down at his shirt, he saw what I had squeezed out of the bottle and smirked.

"Well, fine, have it your way." He feigned shrugging off the situation before resorting to the whipped cream. Spraying it all over my shirt, he added, "It's payback time, hobbit!"

Laughing even harder, I added, "I'm not the one whose height is that of the average woman's. Don't you have a ring to destroy?"

Retaliating with the hurling of sprinkles, Matt ignored this comment. The dessert combat escalated as the kitchenette became increasingly messy. However, this did not compensate for how sloppy we looked. Dodging toppings and eventually other food items, such as cereal, we even slipped on some interesting stuff. As not eloquent as that sounded, that is the only way I can describe it, just random stuff that fell on the floor.

"Give it up, Four Eyes!" I shouted, tossing strawberries that Matt actually caught in his mouth. "You shall never defeat me and my warring prowess!"

"In your dreams, hobbit!" he scoffed, resuming the sundae battle.

I barely remember how long the ridiculousness lasted, but before we knew it, Mello entered the kitchenette to investigate the situation. In a classic manner, he almost slipped on the rejected banana, though caught himself just in time.

"What are you two up to?" he snarled, baring his vicious teeth that could bite a chocolate bar in half—in one bite, too.

Pretending to be innocent, Matt and I hid what we held (some M&Ms and a pint of strawberry ice cream, respectively) behind our backs. However, that could not mask the various topping and other foods on our clothes and hair.

"Don't go into growling mode yet, Chewbacca," Matt warned, though was a little late in saying this. "V and I were just making a sundae, right, V?"

I nodded in agreement with this partial lie by confirming, "Yes, and we got ourselves into a topping accident of sorts."

"What were you making a sundae out of, each other?" Mello inquired sarcastically. "And calling each other nicknames? Both of you are just childish weirdos."

Folding his arms firmly across his chest, he turned away from us, presumably to stifle a chuckle. After all, he never liked displaying his amusement, which he thought demoted his credibility.

"Geez, V, I don't know how to respond to that," Matt remarked, staring at his best friend with a sly intent. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Picking up the whipped cream can since I did indeed seem to decipher his thoughts, I replied, "I most certainly am. Do you have the toppings?"

When the redhead bestowed his whispered statement in the affirmative, I sprayed whipped cream all over the apex of Mello's head. Startled, the chocoholic slipped on the banana and fell this time. I giggled as Matt added chocolate syrup to make Mello appear even more amusing...to us anyway.

"Can't have a sundae without syrup," the gamer declared.

I contributed sprinkles as I simply stated, "Or sprinkles."

We continued to place toppings on top of Mello's blond head, for we both felt devilish in a tingling sensational way. Finally, Matt did the final honors.

"And, of course, you can't have a sundae without the cherry." Crowning the blond with a plump Maraschino, he tacked on, "I now present the Mello sundae."

Eager for this moment, I tasted a sample I caught with my finger. "It's delicious! Maybe not the healthiest...or good-humored...but I just adore it!"

"Ah, you guys piss me off," our friend confessed, despite a tiny smirk that played on his lips.

Matt and I leaned over him simultaneously to yell.

"Happy birthday, Mello!"

For, oddly enough, this was December 13th—Mello's twentieth birthday, and we could not have thought of a more juvenile yet unprecedented way to celebrate it.

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**A/N: OK, the ice cream part was NOT innuendo. I'm serious about that. I know that there are perverted people out there so...yeah. XP I guess this is a good time to say right now that I will NEVER IN A GAZILLION YEARS WRITE LEMONS!!! So, I am not the writer for that. I also will not do limes, oranges (jk), or any other citrus fruits. Because, one time, I accidentally scanned over a lemon part that the writer on Quizilla warned about beforehand. I was traumatized. XP So, I'm just putting that out there, in case anyone is curious to read my other works on here. If not, that's OK.**

**I wanted to put in as many "nerd" references as possible on here, because, let's face it, nerds rule the universe! XD And, according to volume 13 of the manga, Matt is 5'5. And that's pretty short for a guy. Yet, he calls V a hobbit. XP And yes, I do agree that pretending your best friend is a sundae is an extremely weird way to celebrate his/her birthday. XD But, it's fun, though.**

**Please review, guys! They really mean a lot to me, even if I get two. Just as long as it isn't AOL sending junk mail to me, haha!**


	21. View

**A/N: I swear Murphy's Law never fails. I mentioned I would get excited over two reviews. But, on Sunday, I got thirteen in one day! XD You guys rock seriously. And I got another one yesterday...I feel like dancing right now! Anyway, here's the chapter. XP**

**Disclaimer: I only own dreams inside my head that I sometimes have regarding Death Note. But, not much else.**

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**Chapter 21: View**

As aforementioned, we and the guys skulked about the city to follow those certain people. The days elapsed while we did so, rarely spending time at the apartment. I speak in this repetitive manner, for we even were busy on Christmas day executing our tasks. It wasn't until evening when we gathered around the living room, with me holding gifts for Matt and Mello. Of course, I got them what they wanted, a video game and a chocolate bar respectively. At least they had been simple to shop for. Matt had forgotten buying presents, though took ice cream out of the fridge and tried to pass it off as a gift for me. I didn't believe him as I resolved to laugh and thank him anyway. Mello just hated the cheery holiday season altogether, so he hardly bothered with shopping.

After the briefest exchange of gifts in history, I gestured to Matt to follow me. I lead him out to the fire escape of our apartment, so that he could see for himself what Tokyo looked like during the evening. The lights from the tallest skyscrapers seemed to intensify as the sun set, and cars zoomed along below us. These vehicles practically looked like ants from where we stood. Pleased with the scenery, I sighed contently, realizing that happiness for me was complete. No longer did I dwell on L's death, which would always make me sorrowful. I just thought it was time to move on with life. After all, I had Matt by my side, Mello was still my friend, and I felt so much more satisfied with my current circumstances.

"I told you it looks great," I told Matt while turning toward him, my hand resting on the rail. He appeared thoughtful for a brief moment before smiling.

"Can't argue with you there," he replied in his precise, truthful way in which he always spoke. Honestly, he was not a huge fan of words and preferred to be lazy when it came to saying them. I loved that even more about him—he never changed. He maintained a predictability about him that I found pleasant.

"I really love this place," I remarked almost dreamily to him as I draped my arm over his shoulder. "It's so beautiful when it nears dark like this. This was why I originally wanted to come here—just to see the sights. I never imagined I would get caught up in a case."

Matt snorted with sardonic laughter. "Me neither, but hey, I wanted to help Mello."

I nodded, merely diverting my attention to the sunset with its tapestry of shades. Blue, pink, yellow, orange, and navy that approached and closed in on the other colors. For, night would come shortly, its ethereal beauty that would possibly inspire a song or two out of me. Nature affected me profoundly like that, even if urban lights like these would prevent me from gazing at the stars. And stars were pretty much what the nocturnal hours were all about. Drifting my dark eyes toward Matt, I randomly started to try imagining what he would look like without his goggles. And, honestly, that's something really difficult to comprehend, much less picture.

When he noticed that I squinted, he inquired, "What are you trying to do, V?"

"I'm trying to imagine you without goggles. I find it's more difficult than I thought."

He smirked as he leaned comfortably back against the rail of the fire escape. "Oh, really? Well, considering I never take them off, you would be wondering that."

Proceeding to climb on top of the rail, he added as he allowed himself to dangle upside down, "But, maybe, we'll have a Spiderman kiss in which I take off my goggles. How's that sound?"

Thoroughly surprised at this dangerous stunt, I scolded, "Quit doing that, you bloody git!" and dragged his feet so he could get back on the platform.

Unfortunately, he fell on top of me in the process, either purposely done or accidental.

I had no idea why he lost his balance, but I felt incredibly awkward with this situation. It must have looked rather disturbing, so of course I was blushing like mad, too. Worst of all, Mello apparently heard the distinct _thump _of Matt's fall, which compelled him to investigate this matter. The chocoholic wrinkled his nose from disgust upon noting this sight of his two friends arranged like this.

"What are you two doi—you know what? I don't even want to know. Have fun," he snorted sarcastically and proceeded to move on with his own devices.

I glanced up at Matt reproachfully. "That was no accident, Matt. You just did that to make a fool out of me."

You're blushing, though. You know you liked that."

More color spread onto my face, which inwardly frustrated me. It didn't matter that Matt caused this, I still felt highly awkward. And my pride repulsed from such treatment. However, he was confident that he would earn my positive attention again when I sensed his breath hovering above my ear lobe. I turned my head to the side, willing to listen to what he had to say.

He asked almost playfully, "Are you shy, V?"

"No...just socially awkward with others most of the time. I speak quite often, you know."

"Social awkwardness? It's the same thing," came the kindly teasing whisper.

Soon, he proceeded to sit upright, and I did the same thing, though looked much more rigid and tense. Despite my nerves, I rather enjoyed being this close to him.

We sat like this silently for quite an amount of time, merely observing the painted twilit sky darken into nighttime navy. I became bored, but just before I rose to my feet, Matt stood up.

"Close your eyes," he directed, his eyes gleaming as though he had just come up with a plan.

"Why?"

"Just do it," he responded to my question while chuckling again. I rolled my eyes, though I complied, for I did trust him. I only wondered what this big surprise would be.

While my eyes remained closed, I heard the rustling of his jeans, which seemed to sneak up behind me. I assumed he scooted slyly toward me, all the while my curiosity increasing. What had he planned for me? Something slid down my forehead, an object feeling like a small weight on my head. Speculating on this mystery item, I figured that it was obviously some sort of eyewear. And there was only one type I had seen lately.

"All right, it's OK to open your eyes now," I heard Matt's voice containing suppressed eagerness murmur in my ear.

Once I opened my dark orbs, all I saw was red. The sky looked red, the skyscrapers looked red—everything seemed to alter into this one color. I blinked several times, ensuring that I currently saw everything like this.

When I discovered for certain that this was the case, I remarked, "I hope you didn't put anything in my ice cream earlier, Matt."

He laughed yet again, which compelled me to turn my attention to him. He wasn't wearing his goggles. That shocked me, for he looked so different than usual; he was even more handsome to me, now that his emerald eyes sparkled more clearly. The goggles had hindered that before, and now I wore them. They felt weird on my face, though I finally received the chance to see the world through rose-colored glasses—or, in this case, goggles. I smiled contently and gently punched Matt's shoulder.

"You are so devious!" I accused, but I smiled even wider.

He grinned like he honestly didn't regret making me undergo a little surprise.

"Well, you said you wondered what I was like without goggles. What else was I supposed to do? You know me well enough, V."

"True...but I suppose my eyes look even bigger, like a weird insect's. I know that it's completely idiotic to feel so self-conscious about them, but the orphans often poked fun at me. It's just...deterring, you know?"

Drawing me close to him, Matt gazed at me kindly before whispering, "Hey, I like big eyes."

I kissed him since I considered that the right response, I admit it.

Slightly ruffling my hair when we parted, he assured me, "Your eyes are fine. The orphans over there were idiots. They were gifted, and they were idiots. Heh, irony!"

I laughed and pushed the goggles back from my eyes to get the best view of him without goggles. After all, I probably would never see him without them again.

Wearing a smirk while he still kept one arm around me, he asked, "You think I'm sexy, don't you?"

"Don't presume what I already think," I chided him, though smiled like a hypocrite.

"You're smiling much more than you used to," Matt remarked, stroking my raven hair lazily. "I like it. You just seem the most perfect when you smile."

"You didn't have to tell me twice! Seriously, though, I thank you for the compliment."

We kissed yet again, loving every second of our time together.

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**A/N: Yeah, some more fluff for you guys. XD I know it was probably OOC for Matt to lose the goggles for once, but he put them on V...so I guess that's in character. Crazy guy! XD And, Mello just looking at them like he thinks...yeah, I blushed when I wrote that part, LOL! But, I'm still adamant about the no lemons thing. I would get torched for writing them, believe me (shudders).**

**Tomorrow, mine story shalt be updateth! Review please!**


	22. Sacrifice

**A/N: Hey, guys, thanks for sticking with this story! XD But, on a more serious note, this chapter might make you guys really, REALLY hate me. OK, you won't hate _me _per se, but you will hate what happens in this. T_T**

**Disclaimer: Don't own anything but V. I'm always saying the same thing in these!**

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**Chapter 22: Sacrifice**

"OK, now let's go over this one more time to know what we're doing," Mello told us on a slightly chilly January morning. But, luckily, it never became too overly cold in Japan in the winter, so I wasn't complaining. That aside, Mello, ever the leader, had planned a series of reckless actions to weaken Kira's power. He thought that kidnapping one of Kira's most passionate supporters, Kiyomi Takada, would do just that. However, I felt somewhat uneasy regarding this plot concerning the reporter. I doubted it would be enough to stop Kira, who would keep killing people until no threats existed. And I supposed this meant all three of us would die in the process. For, this wasn't a Japanese thing any more. It was a worldwide revolution against crime with Kira as leader.

He had gained so many supporters through his own version of justice that he almost served as an unstoppable force. Ever since L died, no opposition came close to his brilliance, though I supposed we all had to depend on Near now. He always seemed the calculating, superhuman genius type that might solve the case permanently. Mello would have despised me if I said such things, and I wasn't prepared for another huge argument with him. Besides, I would never say anything insensitive again; last time was enough.

"So," the blond continued, "Matt, you drive to that location I mentioned and fire off that gun of yours. The smoke should provide the perfect cover for me to take over and kidnap Takada."

With a practically eager albeit cocky expression on his face, Matt tossed his gun up in the air and caught it. "Fire off this thing? Will do."

I cast a concerned glance at him, for I had an ill feeling about what would take place. I honestly didn't want Matt and Mello to die because of this—they were the only two people I had left. I could not lose them. And the way Matt acted ready to risk his life...it frightened me. Proceeding to listen to the rest of Mello's recap of the plan, I hated it more and more with each word.

"Then, I'm going to keep her hostage probably until Kira shows up. I'll confront him from there. Matt, as soon as you do your part, escape as fast as possible. I don't want the cops on my tail, and you just might lose them—you're a good driver."

"You bet I am!" The redhead grinned as he leaned back against the sofa.

Wary of Mello's intentions since I wasn't mentioned, I drifted my sharpened eyes toward him. Did he expect me to sit there while he and Matt placed their lives on the line? I didn't want to be left out in the cold, wondering if they would survive. That was why I joined the task force two years ago—to not have to worry over L so desperately. In this scenario, I thought, the same thing would occur. I cared deeply for my best friend and the love of my life. Losing them would be the final blow for me, though suicide would not be an option. If worse came to worse, I would prove myself so much stronger than that. I got through two deaths before, didn't I?

"I don't want to stay in the apartment, Mello," I told him evenly. "Do you think I'm just going to sit there and do nothing? I can't do that. It was never in my nature."

Biting off the rest of his chocolate furiously, Mello glared at me, clearly objecting to my opinion. It was almost as though he didn't want me to risk my life, whereas I didn't want the same for him. As friends, we tended to be overprotective around each other.

"You're not going, OK?" he attempted to confirm this fact, though I could tell that he had second thoughts. He knew better than anyone that I had always possessed a stubborn streak.

"Look, you cannot tell me what to do," I replied firmly, pursing my lips tightly together.

"It's dangerous!"

"And I've put myself in danger how many times in my life?"

Before this could escalate into an ugly argument, Matt stopped playing his video game and tossed his handheld aside.

"Just let her go, Mello," he told him calmly. "I'll look after her."

I suppressed a smile as I moodily murmured, "I don't need looking after."

"Come on, V. Let me do this." Matt scooted closer to me on the couch, wrapping one arm around me. "A cute girl like you needs protecting. You know?"

Mello rolled his eyes as he shoved his pistol into his belt. "Will you two ever stop flirting with each other?"

"Nope," the redhead and I replied at the same, exact time before winking at each other.

Our blond friend appraised us brutally with a stony glare before smirking slightly. Opening the door to our apartment slightly ajar, he ordered, "Let's get ready. Hopefully, if things go well, Kira will be dead in a matter of hours."

"Go us!" Matt, ever optimistic yet jokingly sarcastic, grabbed my hand, and we took the stairs to head outside. Once there, Mello placed his helmet on his head while the two of us entered the car, where I was told to sit in the back. That went well with me; I had prepared myself for this adventure. And, if we played our cards right, it would conclude with the death of Kira.

The death of my brother L would be avenged today.

I basked in the ecstasy of our impending victory, though a lighter clicking interrupted that moment of bliss. Leaning forward, I noticed that Matt had list his customary cigarette.

"One for the road, I though," he told me, flashing a grin for my expense. Apparently, Mello had signaled to him to turn the ignition on, for he added, "Geez, Mello's impatient! Doesn't he know I _always _have to smoke in my car?"

"It's not your car, it's somebody else's," I corrected matter-of-factly. "And, besides, smoking in a vehicle is generally—"

"Whatever."

I giggled, knowing my boyfriend would never heed my advice. The power of nicotine definitely possessed him, and trying to convince him not to smoke in the car is a lost cause.

As Mello followed Matt as planned, I merely looked out the window to enjoy the sights. The sun had barely risen yet, which made me feel even more tired than I was. Indeed, I had gotten up at five o'clock in the morning along with the other two. They had planned this scheme for quite some time, and today served as the opportune moment to take Light down. Even if he might have seemed innocent those years ago, he still killed my brother—that could not go unpunished. I sensed that today would be highly eventful, maybe leading to a happy ending for the world...or at least tolerable. The world isn't perfect, after all. No one can change it, no matter how extensive their power—not even Light Yagami.

"So, what should we do after all this is over?" I asked Matt at one point.

"I don't know. Maybe catch a movie, get some sushi, and all that fun stuff."

I smiled in the knowledge that he would never think or plan too far ahead, whereas I wanted my entire life mapped out. But, that was another quality I found fascinating in him.

"You excited that we're doing this for your brother?" he asked abruptly.

"Most definitely. I just want all of this to be over, so we can move on with our lives. I have big dreams for the future."

Just as he reached a stoplight, Matt glanced back toward me, his emerald eyes lit up with teasing. Yet, an honest sincerity resided there, too. I wondered what he thought.

"I'm guessing you'd want to get married."

I smiled again. "Yes, that would be nice."

The lights turned green as Matt drove through while letting out another stream of wispy white smoke. "Won't be for like ten years, though. How many kids would you want?"

"Four."

"Why four?"

"It's my lucky number. And I want no more than that. Less would be OK. Why are we talking about this?"

I could tell he shrugged. "Just curious. I told Mello last night he should be a godfather."

I burst into laughter right then and there; picturing Mello with children on his lap like a mall Santa Claus was too hilarious.

"That's still not a good explanation."

"OK, fine, you wanna know? Last night, I dreamed we got married in Vegas and had twelve kids. You were a hot showgirl by th—"

"Take it easy!" I yelled, slapping the back of the seat. "I aspire to be a musician."

Matt winked at me quickly before focusing on the road. "It's video game tester for me."

"Big surprise."

Five minutes passed in which we regaled in random conversation that no one but us could hold. Laughter and jokes often brought spice to this conversation as well. I thought this would never end. Being with Matt made me feel so complacent that I could talk to him about almost anything. Marriage could wait, for I was having the time of my life with him. I was patient too, and as I allowed my dreams to take flight, I pictured the ideal wedding. Then, I proceeded to imagine the events beyond marriage; honestly, if Matt had never kissed me in the rain, I wouldn't have thought up these feminine things. My love for him would never die, I convinced myself, for we shared companionship and intimacy. Our relationship was the whole package, since we had something hardly anyone else can possess.

As much as I didn't want it to come, the moment of truth had arrived in which Matt would create the concealing smoke, and Mello would ensue with the kidnapping of Takada. Of course, Light/Kira would use a woman in his plot for world domination. He had done it before with Misa, who I admittedly (or I should say truly) missed. I hoped she would come out of this and find someone much better than her Light-kun. He never cared about her, or any woman apart from family, for that matter. I saw that as tragedy at its most painful. Meanwhile, Matt shot off his gun before quickly driving off.

"You might want to hold on, V," he warned as I noted that the speedometer read seventy. "Takada's bodyguards are gaining."

And they were, my heart beating incessantly the whole time Matt attempted to dispel them using the speed of his car. Unfortunately, I discovered that they surrounded us when he managed to keep the car under control. He rode out a tremendous spin before putting his foot on the brake pedal. I slammed back against my seat, courtesy of the seatbelt that restrained me.

"Close one," I managed to gasp, overcome with a mixture of fear and relief. At least we hadn't crashed.

"Damn, never thought there would be this many," Matt muttered while gazing at the many cars parked outside. "They've got us surrounded."

"What are we going to do?" I inquired, my ebony eyes anxiously darting toward him.

He sighed as he smoked with a contemplative, serious expression on his face that unnerved me. What would happen to us? It surely could not end like this, not when we were so close! We would wreak Kira's destruction, I assumed.

"V, stay in the car," I then heard Matt's stern voice instruct me. "I'm sure that I just have to answer a few inconvenient questions, and we'll be on our way. Promise."

This time (and the only time), I thought that Matt was being much too optimistic to venture that as a possibility. Nervously looking out the window, I noticed that these men had guns. They would shoot my love down while I had to sit and watch?!?

"At least let me come out with you, dammit!" I shouted, losing my placidity due to concern.

Matt gazed at me back, and though his eyes flashed impatience, they held a pained, reluctant look. I realized that he wanted desperately to protect me.

"I can't let you do that, and you know that."

"I don't care! I don't want you to—" Choking slightly due to a lump in my throat, I blinked back sudden tears that clung to my lashes. Smiling softly at me, Matt cradled my cheek in his hand.

"I'll be all right, V. We'll be out of here in a snap," he assured, kissing my cheek.

When he emerged from the car, I immediately began watching him.

Luckily, I managed to hear Matt well as he spoke casually to the bodyguards that surely supported Kira. His manner of treating these events as though they happened every day compelled me to smile wryly. He seemed to test these men almost, teasing them with his words.

Yet, they were raising their guns slowly...

...Inch by measly inch.

"You won't shoot," Matt told them, which nearly sounded like a dare—oh no. He couldn't die, not like this. I swore to myself the day L died that I would prevent others I cared about from sharing the same fate.

Opening the car door as quickly as I could, I practically screamed, "Matt, no!" and bullets struck both of us as I tackled him to the ground.

I had sacrificed myself to try to save him.

I suppose all of you ask yourselves if bullets hurt agonizingly. Well, if you're like me, you disregard them showering onto you, especially on a rescue attempt such as this. As I mentioned before, my love for Matt would serve as eternal. Frankly, it would never die, even as we lay dying on the asphalt.

"I...told you...to stay in the car," Matt whispered, weakly drawing me close to him. "You...didn't have to...go all noble...on me."

"I wanted to," I gasped, sensing now the bullet lodged in my back. "It wasn't...out of...suicidal intent either. I only...care about you, Matt."

Cliché as that sounded coming from me, it was undoubtedly the truth.

Settling my head on his chest like I often did, I sadly heard an occasional thump of his heart, clearly not a good sign. Then again, I was going through this too, this feeling of draining life with each drop of blood. The holes on Matt's light brown fuzzy vest proved this, blood leaking horribly. If he looked like that, I must have appeared even worse from the attack of the bodyguards. Supporters of any type can go to such extremes. Heaving another one of my lingering breaths, I gazed into Matt's eyes. I worried that he might possibly be angry with me for disobeying his simple command.

However, he looked content, peaceful with his fate as though he didn't really care.

I knew it, I thought, he would react that way after all. Matt was never one to have excessive cares in his life.

"So much...for sushi, huh?" he asked, which, oddly enough, made me laugh hoarsely. Even this simple gesture brought me a coughing fit in which blood came out—not a pretty sight. At times as horrible as these, he joked to maintain a smile on my face.

"We can...only hope that...Mello will...bring Kira down."

"Yeah..."

We became so weak that long intervals passed between words, death gradually creeping up on us. If I hadn't interfered, Matt would have died instantly, but instead, fate granted us this one final moment together.

Caressing my cheek, he stared at me with adoration that filled those beautiful emerald orbs I loved to the brims.

"I love you, V," he murmured, his eyes never leaving mine.

"About time...you said that," I retorted sardonically, though smiled all the same. Leave it to jokester Matt to confess deep feelings at the last minute. However, I added seriously, "I love you...more than words...can ever express."

"So you...kill yourself...instead."

I laughed, despite the tastelessness of that joke. "I mean it."

He kissed me on the lips, a chaste, brief kiss at that.

It was then that I recognized that I didn't mind dying. If, in my case, I died with the one I loved, I liked this. It was a good death, however reminiscent of _Romeo and Juliet _it might be. Ironically enough, I always despised that play—too much nonsense and melodramatic drivel to suit me. And we ended up reading it in English at ages that ranged from six to eight.

"Ugh...we're Romeo and Juliet," I alluded to Matt, grimacing from both pain and the mere mention of the play itself.

"More like...Link and Princess Zelda," he countered, ruffling my hair shakily.

I deemed that a worthier comparison, for he didn't call me Princess Zelda for nothing. This made me recall that I had told him to stop addressing me by that nickname. But, since this was inevitably for old times' sake, it rather pleased me. I sighed yet again, counting the breaths I would take before death. I could hardly wait for the afterlife and see my loved ones. L would probably be there, along with Watari and even my parents, who I always wished to see. That is, before I forgot them; that was during a time when death remained far off.

"See you...later then," Matt told me, his breathing growing more ragged.

"At least...," I grinned weakly, "...you didn't say goodbye."

An invisible force seemed to lower my heavy lids, putting my body at its final rest.

And, according to later discussed people, I died with a smile etched on my face.

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**A/N: I shed a few tears after I wrote the death part--though, honestly, I wanted to sob. Killing V off was like cutting off my right hand, because I (and this is gonna sound weird) felt a kindredship between me and her. Yes, I was that attatched. And Matt...I hated killing him off, too. But, hey, at least V died in the noblest way possible: trying to save the one she loved. If she was going to die, I thought, she should go out heroically.**

**Guys, we're getting to the end here! Just two chapters and an epilogue left to go and for two reasons.**

**1) I didn't really want to go with a Romeo and Juliet ending on this one (sorry Shakespeare fans!).**

**2) Just having V say, "I died, the end" is not good enough for a story that, for you guys, deserves a much better ending.**

**All of you will find out what happens next chapter, which, I admit, bent the Death Note rules slightly. Or, I should say rule, and it's-- I guess--not major but it's still important. Review please in V's memory! Now, I admit, that sounded weird (sighs).**


	23. Rejuvenation

**A/N: I sincerely apologize for making seemingly everybody cry yesterday. I hate killing off characters. OK, I know that in the manga, it says, "Death is equal." Even though I have agonizingly stuck to every aspect of this series, I want to ignore that part. I just didn't want to end this story with death. Rather, an afterlife that the dead characters' spirits can enjoy. For, I admit, I have a weird fascination for what happens after death.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Death Note, do own V and two surprise OCs. **

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**Chapter 23: Rejuvenation**

I felt like I was floating as soon as I passed away at age nineteen. A floating sensation is all I can say as to what death itself consists. It's basically the departure of the soul from the body. And the feeling thrilled me, as though peace swept over me with no more worries as a bonus. This will probably be the only time you will ever hear from someone as to what life after death possesses. Back to the story—I drifted through black for a long time. It served as a kind of tunnel from one life to the next; technically speaking, all of us mortals only have one life at our disposals. But, ah, once we die, a new experience welcomes us to another realm filled with wonders. Of course, though, rules surround this place, including what criteria must be met when one has lived back in the real world. I will relate that later, when the time calls for it. For now, I continue.

A practically blinding light banished the darkness I had found myself drifting through, as though I became the wind. Too poetic? Yes, I think so too, only because I normally remain sensible. However, I recognized that this place where I currently stood could stray from all human sensibilities. What confirmed my theory came in the form of an imposing gatekeeper who held a long, seemingly endless list of names.

"Name?" he questioned in a no-nonsense tone of voice.

Since Kira probably still lived back on earth, I supposed giving my full name wouldn't result in my death. For, obviously, I was already dead.

"Victoria Celeste Lawliet," I told the man with disbelieving awe in my voice. What happened to impel me to tack on the middle name I had never used in life anyway? My gaze lazily landed on the list, which made me speculate on its content. If my name was not on it, would I go somewhere vile? Or, if it was on the list, would I go through the gate? Really, all of this seemed like a dream to begin with, but I pinched myself to feel flesh between my fingers. This. Was. Real. To say the least, I was shocked.

Finally, the gatekeeper glanced up from the extensive scroll, nodding. "Your name is indeed on here, right before your mother's. Welcome."

Another light flashed to announce the pearly white gates opening their doors to me. No longer did I fear the strange man, for I had been accepted. I sighed with relief.

Timidly stepping through to see the sights of the location before me, I had no idea where to begin. My surroundings resembled one's idea of paradise, teeming with everything imaginable. I would describe what I saw, bit I have decided that you should find out yourself if you ever die. Oh, morbid, I know! But, as a narrator weaving her tale from beyond the grave, I am not only forced to secrecy but am qualified to be enigmatic. I apologize if I have infuriated in any way. So, as I wandered through this realm, I sought out for any familiar faces. All I observed were the faces of deceased people I had never met before. This keenly reminded me of the first day of my classes at Wammy's. All those children glaring distastefully at me—I hoped none of them ended up here.

My instincts couldn't aid me when it came to where to start searching for my deceased loved ones. Stepping further inside the sanctuary the gates protected, I slowly enacted my self-proclaimed mission. More phantoms of what people once were moved past me as I furthered my search. After what seemed like half an hour, it became a bleak failure, the crowd still parting. I almost gave up when I heard someone call my name.

"Hey, V! V!"

"Could you move please?" I requested of my fellow dead, who thankfully obliged.

There he stood behind those who parted: the one who I wanted to be there with me.

"Matt!" I called his name gratefully, my dread that he had vanished lifting from my heart. At last, I had found him when it seemed so impossible! Sprinting toward him, I leapt from the ground into his arms; I proceeded to embrace him, refusing to let him stray from my sight ever again.

"Um, V, you're strangling me," he remarked, to which I responded with a laugh and my arms releasing their tight, protective hold.

"I'm sorry. I'm just glad that you are here."

"Where'd you think I'd be? That other place with the lake of fire?"

Laughing blissfully again, I proceeded to kiss Matt like mad, treating ten minutes ago (when the last kiss happened) like they had never existed.

Another familiar voice interrupted the reunion strictly between the two of us. This one sounded almost less than thrilled to see us. "And what do you think you're doing with my sister, Matt?"

Of course, I identified the voice's owner just before I turned around. "L!"

Indeed, my brother smiled slightly at me, though eyed Matt distrustfully. He had never predicted that the gamer and I would become a couple. So, of course, L chose to mask his surprise with paranoia toward my beloved. I hoped at that moment that no capoiera would be used.

"Trust me, sir—I mean, L—V started kissing me," Matt confirmed, nervously grinning as L continued to glare at him.

"Mm, that's fine and all, but V's happiness is important. Should I even trust you?"

Heaving an exasperated sigh, fed up with L's need for testing people, I assured my brother, "L, Matt's my boyfriend. And, as my boyfriend, he has all the rights to kiss me, hold my hand, tease me, etc. as he so wishes. Honestly, must you interrogate?"

His profoundly black eyes appraised my facial reaction. Apparently satisfied with the end result of the inspection, he replied dourly, "Yes, I do. He might have done something inappropriate of which I would extremely disapprove. Confess, Matt, or you will no longer be allowed to be within five hundred yards of V."

"There's nothing to confess...sir."

Matt resorted to addressing L formally since the former wished to approach this delicate situation cautiously. Even though we would never marry, he noted that my often overprotective sibling acted like a cold in-law toward him. Seriousness was the only way to talk himself out of this ordeal.

"Look," he continued, wrapping an arm around my waist, "V is probably the most amazing girl I have ever met. Sure, I was always commenting on girls looking cute way back when, but she's the cutest. She's intelligent, brave (she tried saving me when we were getting shot), funny—she has a great personality. I love her."

I couldn't help but blush from all the praise bestowed upon me; realistically speaking, no one other than the people closely connected to me had ever complimented me in life.

However, L still looked unsure, for he inspected Matt's expression for honesty. Unlike me, he required seeing things before actually believing them, whereas I merely needed to hear them.

With a tone of reluctance, he decided to negotiate. "I will take your word for it. But, one false move, and I will ensure that you won't come near my sister. Is that understood?"

"Yeah, definitely," Matt agreed with a confident, alleviated smile.

"I still don't trust you, though."

"Give it a rest, L!" I groaned and strode over to him.

My boyfriend observed that I planned to converse with L alone, so he left me for the time being.

In the mean time, I sighed while giving one of my more genuine smiles. I knew that my brother cared about me, though he didn't need to take such drastic measures. Matt would look after me and love me like he had always done. I assumed that L did not possess the enthusiasm of passing the torch to someone else when it came to watching over me. No matter how many times I assured him that I was old enough to fend for myself, I realized he would never truly accept it. He was my brother, after all.

"L, I love Matt. He has been there for me ever since you died. So, try to be a little nicer to him."

"Perhaps, as time goes on, I will. For now, I will remain wary," he stated firmly.

Discerning from the intensity of his eyes that he had made up his mind, I realized that I really had no control over his decisions either. He would trust Matt whenever he deemed it the right time. For now, I would endure his cautious attitude toward this recent concept of me having a boyfriend.

"I understand," I murmured to him, though maintained my smile. "I have missed you greatly. And I tried my hardest to avenge your death...but I feel like I have failed."

L patted the top of my head briefly. "Something tells me what you did before you died will have an effect. And, if I'm correct in assuming this, it will lead to Light's death. In retrospect, you haven't failed at all."

Even after death, he had thought of the Kira case above all else. It amazed me how sure L was that it would end in Light's passing away. Sure, the Yagamis would be devastated over their loss, but their loved one had become a murderer. Whatever pure intentions he had starting out, his personality had transformed into something horrible. If nothing could convince him that what he did turned out very wrong, the only thing left was death.

"I'm proud of you, V," L interrupted my inward reflections on Light's personality. "I have been watching you for a while. Maybe Matt was right, but I knew you had all the qualities he mentioned long before he discovered them."

"You would say that," I joked before Watari came to welcome me.

"Hello, Victoria," he greeted, smiling his grandfatherly smile, "it has been a while since we've seen you last. I did not expect you to come here so soon, however."

"It's only because I got shot trying to save Matt," I told him as though I had given a comment on the weather.

"That was indeed noble of you. As I was going to say, I planned a surprise for you."

A surprise for me? I wondered what Watari would divulge that would induce immense joy for me. I was certain that the surprise would give me just that. Agog with curiosity, I proceeded to follow the caretaker to our destination.

What I saw both shocked and thrilled me.

A couple who appeared to be in their early thirties stood in front of us after our short walk. The man wore a polo T-shirt, khaki pants, pair of oxfords, and glasses that showed off his intelligent eyes. These eyes matched my brother's and mine, which excited me. I identified this man as my father, for it couldn't have been more obvious. The woman next to him had come from the dream that impelled me to nearly weep two years ago. I recognized her jet-black curls, though had not seen her face, which was definitely a maternal one. She smiled at me even more brightly than my father, her also dark eyes gleaming accompanied by the upward tilt of her lips.

Jonathon and Lydia Lawliet—I had finally found them!

"Mom? Dad?" I inquired to make sure that I really saw them.

Mom spoke first and hearing her pure, soft voice that I had merely dreamt of before delighted me in more ways than one.

"Vicky, you're all grown up. We've been watching you for all these years through the good times as well as the bad. Our only regret is that we weren't there for you."

"We would have loved to watch you and L, so that you didn't have to go through so much in your lives," Dad added. "You two have turned out great."

"I...never thought I would ever get to see you," I said quietly, overcome with bliss. "And, it's V, by the way."

"V...that sounds better than Vicky, doesn't it?" Mom laughed.

We spent for I don't know how long conversing, mainly me bringing my parents up to speed on my entire life. I basically told an abridged version of my extensive autobiography. Everything I have addressed to all of you, I passed on to them. I especially ensured to stress how Matt brought me fun and laughter to my life. Of course, I mentioned the case, my ordeal when L died, reuniting with Mello and Matt—everything. My parents listened with great empathy, providing occasional remarks that showed that they cared. I only wished that they had been the ones to raise me instead of a blasted orphanage.

When I finished, they assured me that whenever I required adults to talk to, I could rely on them.

"Goodbye for now, Mom and Dad," I bid adieu, pleased that I had finally got to speak with them. "It was great talking to both of you."

"Likewise, V," Mom said placidly as she touched my hand.

"It's just a good thing that we can actually converse with our daughter. You were so small when we last saw you. And you were an enthusiastic diaper user, I assure you," Dad joked for his temporary farewell.

I giggled blithely, turning away to search for Matt. I had spent probably hours away from him, so I just wanted to spend quality time with him. L had interrupted me kissing him, after all.

This time, though, Matt strolled over to me, so that it didn't take too long to find him again. He placed a hand eagerly on my shoulder, which made me look at him rather inquisitively. "What happened, Matt? Was it anything interesting?"

Nodding enthusiastically, he responded with, "Oh, yeah! I got to take you over there."

"All right...wherever there is."

He grabbed my hand as we wandered off toward where whatever was so important was located. Once we arrived to that spot, I saw a familiar face looking at us with an almost guilty expression. The scar still deformed half of it, and his blue eyes looked very haunted.

"Mello....," I muttered deliberately, unsure what to think at this moment. Out of the three of us, I figured he would be the one to survive—no such luck.

He merely sighed as a reaction, his entire countenance appearing morbid and sorrowful. The death he had experienced must have been a horrific one with much heart-wrenching pain. Only one possible reason existed in my mind: Mello knew that we had died. He suffered to the very end; I strongly sympathized with him.

"Hey," he finally greeted us, "that damn Takada probably killed me. I managed to kidnap her, but she got me. I don't really know how...unless she hid a piece of the Death Note."

Matt and I exchanged miserable glances that just showed how much we cared about our friend. We felt like he deserved a far better death than that.

I decided to attempt to convince him that it would have been hard to catch that clue. "It's all right, Mello. If it had been me, I probably wouldn't have seen it coming."

"Look, I should have been more careful!" he yelled out of frustration, which he seemed to vent upon himself. "And I could have been better in approaching this!"

"Dude, V's right," Matt contributed. "Takada probably had some tricks up her sleeve, no thanks to Kira. You shouldn't really take this our on yourself."

Relenting to these words, Mello sighed for the second time. "You're right. So, who killed you two?"

"Takada's bodyguards," Matt and I replied in unison, which made us grin from the weird telepathy. This had been the second time on the same day.

The blond chewed on his chocolate bar rather apologetically, ashamed of himself for putting us through the lethal mission he planned. It seemed like hours passed before he spoke again.

"Look, I'm...sorry for putting you two in danger. That wasn't really a good idea. You didn't have to come along, you know."

Matt let out a chuckle. "Are you kidding? If you told us we couldn't go, we would have made you reconsider. We're the only friends you ever had, Mello."

"Exactly," I chimed in, "for we are extremely loyal. We will continue that, even here in death."

And, for five seconds, a genuine smile crossed Mello's lips, though barely visible.

Those seconds came and went, so that the smile distorted into a smirk. "You guys are too stubborn! Stubborn enough to be stupid to get yourselves killed on my account—you actually blame it on loyalty."

"Not blame," I corrected smoothly with a return smirk, "only justify."

As soon as we settled into companionable silence, I noticed that L strode slowly past us. He proceeded to move like a ghost, descending down into earth. I wondered what impelled him to do that and the floating... That was just too eerie. Following him, I resolved to find out what went on with my brother.

I failed at the following, for I couldn't find him anywhere after a while in Tokyo. My friend and boyfriend had tailed me in the process, much to my unawareness. When I settled for perching on the fire escape of our once inhabited apartment, they did the same. This, of course, startled me.

"Y—you didn't have to follow me, you know!" I exclaimed, awkwardly placing my hand to the nape of my neck. "I wondered what L was up to."

"Well, I guess you'll find out later. For now, let's enjoy being ghosts," Matt suggested, grinning slyly. "Let's haunt people!"

"Can we start with Near?" Mello inquired.

"No," I smirked, "we should haunt Roger. Near, we will torment after that."

Floating speedily toward Wammy's, we set off to do just that.

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**A/N: All right, there are several things I want to mention. First off, I decided not to describe the afterlife "realm" simply because I think every person has a different mental image as to that place. For another, I know I used second person a couple of times, but this was because at this point I really felt like V was telling the story, not me. And another, sorry Mello fans for killing him off. I'm a Mello fan myself, but I wasn't sure how he would have faced Light if the latter was in that warehouse. Sorry for that lack of originality (sighs).**

**However, I do NOT like Near. So, for the Near haters (at least one of my reviewers is), I decided that V, Matt, and Mello plan to haunt him. XD I don't mention the specifics of the haunting, but I want the Mello fans to have some small comfort. It was a last minute edit.**

**OK, I put in a lot of sap in this one with V reuniting with her parents, but this chapter was planned to kind of cheer up you guys, because I knew you would be sad about the character deaths. Tomorrow, a really good thing happens that I think all of you will enjoy. Till now, sayanora!**

**OVER 2,000 HITS, HOLY CRAP! Thanks so much, everyone!**


	24. Observation

**A/N: Hey, again! I would first off like to deeply apologize that this story was pretty much set in stone when I wrote it. I tried to find a way to fit the hauntings of Near and Roger in, but couldn't find an opening due to this POV chapter. I didn't really expect that idea to be tremendously popular, to be honest.**

**However, I have an idea to make it up to you guys. I'm considering making a comedic one-shot in which Matt, V, and Mello haunt Roger and Near after this story is finished. If you think it's an OK idea, please tell me! I would be psyched to do that! XD**

**Disclaimer: I don't own DN.**

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**Chapter 24: Observation**

Five minutes before he ventured back to Japan, L sensed something happening that represented hitherto unfinished business concluding. It was as if his brain told him to return to the country where he died. To reinforce this sensation, an awful headache pounded within his skull. Watari noted when the former detective rubbed his forehead, "L, I suppose you have a headache."

"Yes, Watari. As unrealistic as I'm sure I will sound, I feel as though there is some type of...force ordering me to go to Japan."

"Perhaps some development in the case?"

"I hope so. Near has most likely solved it at last."

With not so much as a goodbye, L departed for Japan, passing V, Mello, and Matt along the way.

His sister had fully recovered from her traumatizing experience when alive, becoming even more mature in the process. She had become a young woman now with Matt as her apparently loving beau. He didn't even see that coming, and he had never found major change very exhilarating. Indeed, in this case, he thoroughly despised it. What if her childhood friend turned boyfriend hurt her in any way? If it was anybody else affected, he admittedly wouldn't care. L sighed as he commenced floating as a lone specter to his destination. He supposed he would have to resign to the fact that V, his sister that he overly protected, had someone else to protect her. Maybe he had been rather harsh with Matt, but he wanted to ensure that the redhead was trustworthy.

Even then, he doubted he would ever fully trust V's boyfriend, for that was simply the type of person he was.

Meanwhile, the mysterious force that lured him to Tokyo pulled him toward a rather eroded, poor looking building. The rays of the setting sun hit the window of it just right, so that it flashed like a beacon to L. He surprised himself when he slipped through the window with ease, refusing to accept becoming a ghost. Really, he had never believed in them or any such superstition. Then again, he never truly acknowledged the existence of shinigami either before he took on the Kira case. So, maybe, he was wrong, and everything paranormal proved real. Temporarily absentminded, he suddenly recognized that a gory body lay helplessly on a set of stairs. The ever curious L decided to obtain a closer look at the dying man, for he seemed very familiar...

And he was. Light Yagami was actually dying right before his eyes.

L had almost assumed that this day would never come, this glorious day in which Kira would finally be defeated. Interested, he stared at his rival who had wrought his demise, all the while holding his knees close to him. So, Light no longer retained the look of perfection he once possessed. His brown hair, usually impeccably tidy, was disheveled and stained with blood. A suit he seemed to have worn had tears and more of the crimson of his blood. And his eyes...once calm, now insanely afraid of what would come of his impending death.

"_Nothingness," _L thought, actually pleased that his death would indeed be avenged. _"That was what one of the Death Note's rules stated."_

Light should have considered his fate more carefully before ever touching that Death Note, wherever he may have found it. Now, he was ready to go to the scariest afterlife that had mere nothingness. His spirit would wander nowhere, trapped forever and dead along with his body—most definitely a fate worse than death. If L had utilized the Death Note on the day of his own death, he would have undergone the same thing. On the other hand, he had never really cared as to what would happen to him. He continued staring at his much loathed rival, watching the life drain away from his face. However, Light's eyes very slightly dilated in shock upon seeing this phantom look at him with this calculating yet bemused gaze.

Eventually, second by anticipated second, the brown eyes glazed over with the finality of death...

...And closed, never to open again.

It was finally over with that simple action. Kira's deterioration heralded the end of this seemingly endless case. The world could be restored to what it once was before these senseless murders. L felt genuine relief for the first time in a long while. This feeling assured him that yes, Kira would cease executing deaths like a god, which he had deemed himself. And, best of all, these deaths that had happened would all be avenged. Not just L's, but his sister's, her friends', Watari's—everyone could rest easily now that Kira was no more.

After witnessing the closing of Light Yagami's eyes, L proceeded to float through the window whence he came and back to the afterlife. He would announce the news to the first person he saw. In fact, once he returned, he noticed that V and two of his former successors conversed breezily amongst each other. He thought that he might as well divulge the fantastic news.

"Kira is dead," he stated solemnly, though secretly felt the rich sense of victory. "Now, the world can be as safe as possible again."

"Thank God," V breathed, her relief affecting her friends as well.

"Well, at least _he's _gone," Mello said gruffly, though seemed to possess the same sentiments.

Matt just grinned in response to hearing all these reactions regarding Kira's death, though contributed, "Finally! That guy was the reason Mello made me sit and watch people."

"We were only doing that for a good reason!" the blond scolded, pointing at his friend with his chocolate bar.

"It's true, Matt. Besides, we wouldn't have gotten fooled by a 'food delivery man'," V lightly taunted, her laughter seeming to fill up the entire realm.

"One time!" Matt attempted to vouch for himself. "One time that happened!"

L glanced at the redhead, lopsidedly shrugged, and set off to tell Watari of his discovery.

He grudged the fact that his third successor did make his sister happy. And he hoped it would stay that way—it better stay that way. Once he announced to his aide that Kira had indeed passed on to nothingness, Watari smiled wanly.

"So, even though you have died, you won despite that."

L smirked grimly, knowing that that wasn't the case. Sometimes, Watari could be too loyal and biased. He appreciated that, but he knew better.

"In all fairness, I'm afraid it's more on the lines of a draw, Watari. I just happened to die first. Maybe...it was my cause that won—the cause that justice would prevail no matter what, as I declared two years ago. Kira's cause, though purely intended, turned out awry and resulted in far too many deaths. And he also didn't think people would stand against it."

Watari nodded in understanding, though L doubted that he wanted to concede that. The detective himself barely wanted to admit it, but felt assured that what he stood for won in the end. And, he confessed, that meant a greater deal than just one person coming out triumphant. If anything, the credit had to go to Near, who cleverly accomplished what he couldn't—though, of course, the world's greatest detective had definitely done most of the hard work for the white haired boy. V then interrupted his thoughts when she arrived to talk to him.

"So, justice won in the end, right?" she asked for confirmation, her smile hinting at that day long ago when L left Wammy's to enforce justice.

"I would say so," he replied, smiling slightly back. "It's over."

She gave him a congratulatory embrace, which brought back a more recent memory, one of which that he would ensure to remind her, the hypocrite.

"You considered hugging incest, did you not?"

V laughed as she too recalled what she had said. "It was only a mere tasteless joke. Family members do hug each other, after all."

"Yes, but not self-respecting people like the Lawliets."

"Don't give me that!" she yelled jokingly, pushing him lightly.

"I am afraid that Matt has had a poor influence on you."

Sticking her tongue out at her brother childishly, V wandered on her way, most likely to meet up with her friend and boyfriend. She had certainly changed. If L was right in thinking this, he assumed that she acted like a teenage girl instead of someone twenty years her senior. At least before she died, her youth had been restored. For her, that quality would stay with her forever. She was as lucky as he figured she would have been if she led a normal life that consisted of having many friends and going to college. But then, L realized that lifestyle didn't matter. V had found luck on her own after his death, though it probably had taken a while. Now, she joked and smiled and laughed—things that she never would have thought of doing two years ago.

"Well, changes do occur every day," L muttered to himself, unsure of how accurate he was.

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**A/N: Ding-dong, the wicked Light is dead! XD I have always wanted to write something in which L sees Light die and the former's thoughts regarding it. So, victory for Team L!...even though most of them are dead. Again, I'm sorry I couldn't include the hauntings, but I'm willing to devote a one-shot to them, if any of you agree. **

**And, oh, what's this? V hugged L, despite her joking comment about incest way back in the story? Oh the irony! Also, I think just moving on to nothingness (which, basically, is not moving on at all) is way worse than dying. So, Light got what was coming to him.**

**Review please! There's just an epilogue left, and DEALTHY is done! Though, I admit, I was sad to finish it, for I would have liked to make a sequel. But, since pretty much everyone cool is dead, I really can't do that. Sorry.**


	25. Epilogue: Moral

**A/N: It's official! The haunting one-shot will be made and probably be out on Monday. Thanks, guys, for agreeing to the idea. For now, enjoy the epilogue. After I finished that when I first wrote it, I was randomly sad. Because, it's been so much fun working on this! Well, here it goes.**

**Disclaimer: I shalt never owneth the Death Note. This marketh the final time that I will ever useth this in my story...eth. XD**

* * *

**Epilogue: Moral**

When L told me after I spoke with him privately that Light's spirit would not move on, relief swept over me. Despite that maybe he would have behaved cordially there, I wouldn't have known who would have shown up: him or Kira. I assumed that eternal captivity in nothingness served as the fate for all Death Note users. This made me even more glad that L hadn't tested the Death Note, though if he had... I admit that I did possess mixed feelings over that. But, perhaps, he could have found a different way to solve the case, which had concluded now at least. All we occupied ourselves with in the afterlife consisted of making occasional visits to earth and watching what went on there. Unfortunately, I found out one day while doing the latter that Misa had committed suicide.

She had gracefully fallen off the edge of an old, abandoned building, the skirt of her maid's dress billowing in the breeze. The sidewalk was about to greet her, when I turned away. I could never really watch a death again, considering the traumatizing one of my brother that compelled me to stand in stunned silence. Nonetheless, I grieved for my casual friend who had never looked upon me with revulsion. If a Death Note had avoided her ownership, she could have had her spirit drifted up here. But, no thanks to Light Yagami who manipulated her to kill, she was lost forever. I told not a soul of Misa's death, for they wouldn't have bothered to care. If Light had lived long enough to hear of the suicide, he would not have cared either. He would have only seen her as a defeated pawn.

Despite the sorrow that stemmed from my friend's death, I felt relatively content in my final home. I could talk to anyone whenever I wished instead of hopping on an eight-hour flight to some enormous city like I had when I was alive. A special bonus was that I could converse with my parents too, something I had never done, of course, before death. Enjoying the fulfillments of my rich afterlife, I never even felt depressed again. Weeks, months, and even years could pass, and I would disregard them; it no longer mattered to me what the time would have been in Tokyo. The chronophobia (or close to it) had finally vanished, leaving me undaunted of what time itself had to offer. As I have never failed to mention, I am dead after all.

And that suits me just fine.

One day, I approached my parents to ask of them to explain to me in great detail of what I was like as a baby. I confess that it had pestered me for quite some time, and though I didn't need to know it, I wanted to. Truthfully, I wondered what they had thought of me when they were alive. It's stupid, I know—of course, parents would love their children. Still, I had extreme curiosity.

"Well, V," Mom started to respond patiently, "when I first held you in my arms, I thought you were just as beautiful a baby as your brother."

"You only weighed five pounds too, if I remember correctly," Dad cut in. "You were supposed to be born in the middle of July, but you were eager to get out."

"Perhaps it was my curious streak," I joked.

Mom went on to continue, "You were the light in our lives. I know that sounds cliché, but you made all of us happy. We even caught L trying to give you sugary sweets at night."

Chuckling, Dad seemed to recall that detail quite vividly. "Yes, you see, we couldn't really stop your brother from eating that junk. He was too clever and hid every bit of it from us. So, he tried to pass that on to you, though we had to tell him sternly that you weren't even cutting teeth yet. And if you had, we wouldn't have wanted you to lose them."

"It's unfortunate, for I ended up eating ice cream constantly," I confessed.

Maybe I shouldn't unveil all the contents of that conversation, which lasted rather long, longer than last time. I developed the love for my parents that I should have grown up with, so it was only natural that I talked to them often. We discussed everything concerning my very early life from firsts I went through to my demeanor. Surprisingly, I rarely cried and seemed calm about everything. I had these traits for almost the entire duration of my life. And, according to Dad, there once was a time long ago in which I ate baby food containing vegetables. Yes, I, the ice cream eating V, used to eat foods with healthy vitamins and minerals. When hearing this fact for the first time, I practically deemed it blasphemy. Even worse, Dad added that my favorite vegetable had been peas. Peas! To say the least, I thought that appalling.

I decided to turn the conversation over to a much more intriguing topic: my parents' intelligence. Surely, L and I had inherited our sharp minds from them. Unbelievably, they told me they possess above (though not extraordinarily so) average IQs, though Mom did mention that she had gone to one of the most prestigious universities in England on scholarship.

"Yes, I went to Oxford, just to say I was there," she kidded, though added more seriously, "I was more of the artistic type, though, and dropped out after a year."

My mouth dropped open. Why would my mother give up three years of Oxford? Then again, I supposed her dreams didn't entail studying law. My grandparents probably wanted her to pursue that branch, and her heart just wasn't in it.

Dad then contributed his education background. "The truth is, V, I was an average student. Haha, it's just the glasses that make me look intelligent! And I went to an average college, and, during that time, I met your lovely mother."

"So...L and I were born geniuses for no apparent reason?" I asked, unsure of why that would turn out that way. Perhaps it resulted of sheer luck.

"It seemed that way. I was just a mere real estate agent," Dad answered with a toothy grin.

"What was your occupation, Mom?"

"I loved writing, so I became a novelist of course." She smiled after divulging her passion.

Contemplating over this, I realized that I now knew where the artistic gene of mine had come from. The only writing I had done, though, only consisted of songwriting. Mom actually did that professionally. It made me wonder if things in nature had inspired her as they had with me. Why not ask that?

"Did sunsets, trees, birds, or anything like that have an impact on your writing, Mom?"

"Most definitely, especially the nighttime. I was a self-confessed night owl and would waste the nocturnal hours writing just one paragraph about what stars looked like."—she laughed at that memory—"The fact that I was a perfectionist wasn't much help either."

So that was why L probably never slept all the time, I thought with a smirk.

One question remained in the back of my mind that I wished to ask Dad, who I hadn't included in the conversation for a while. I welcomed him right back into our talk to show that I was as equally interested in what he had been like.

"Did mysteries ever captivate you, Dad? It might explain why L and I were so intent on solving the Kira case."

He chuckled kindly before telling me, "Well, V, the closest I got to captivation was watching those old detective movies. The more complex, I figured, the better."

I smiled back, for that reminded me of L so much when it came to that quality.

"Thanks for answering my questions. I'll see you two tonight!"

Striding through the impeccable realm that I highly enjoyed living in, I headed to an esteemed vantage point of mine to watch the sunset someplace on earth. My favorite time of day—just observing it brought back many positive memories for me. Even though pessimism often haunted me, I currently felt a tranquil sense settling within my heart. The serene atmosphere down there looked so inviting, so peaceful. Day waning to make way for starry night; there was nothing more beautiful in any world than that. Musicians sang about it, authors wrote about it, and artists placed what they saw in that many painted sky to paper. I sighed contently, gazing at this sunset that oddly meant so much to me. It compelled me to think romantic thoughts within my mind.

If only I had some paper at this very moment, I could write song lyrics in a snap. However, I had already created practically a hundred songs regarding the sunset, which I was nearly obsessed with. I am an artist at heart—always was, always will be. That excuse, I felt, sufficed. Artists dream up beautiful things that can help them perfect their crafts. I was just like them, honestly, despite the application of more sensible, practical thought processes during the case. At peace with the world that I had long since abandoned, the only thing to do was stare at that one twilight with a smile on my face. No cares dragged me down regarding Kira, I was never too far from L, and I got along smashingly with both Matt and Mello.

Honestly, what was there to worry about now?

Suddenly, my sparkling eyes were covered by a pair of hands covered with leather. I started laughing like a schoolgirl as I heard the owner of these hands greet me warmly.

"Guess who."

"Matt, don't fool me. I know it's you." I gently removed his hands from my eyes and turned around to see his perfect grin.

"I'm a kid at heart. What can I say?"

"Well, for one thing, you can admit just how weird you are."

"Rhetorical question, V—it doesn't have an answer."

"You wish!" I retorted sarcastically, my manner of fully welcoming his company.

Proceeding to look at the now nighttime sky from my location, I could sense his arms gently enveloping me in their comforting hold and his chin resting on top of my head.

"So, it's night down there, huh?" he asked in a rather content whisper. It was as though everything surrounding us melted away when that question came. It felt like only the two of us remained, staring calmly at the twinkling stars in some far-off place. I felt like this could stay for the rest of eternity, should stay for forever. A moment alone with Matt could bring all these fanciful thoughts to my mind.

"Yes," I finally whispered in response, settling myself comfortably against his chest.

He played with my raven tresses adoringly, as he had persisted in doing for as long as I could remember. This time, though, he was slower with his strokes, which he treated as though he could do this all the time. And, really, I wouldn't put that past him. Our surroundings could collapse, and he would not even bat an eye. He never cared about the world anyway, and thought that an exceptional quality. At least that implied he hated worrying about everything.

"I love you, Matt," I sighed, relaxing out of the complete and utter happiness that threatened to suffocate me. I hardly minded that, though.

"I know," he replied with a feigned arrogance.

"If you're going to be like that," I joked playfully as I wore a sneer, "should I say that I hate you?"

"OK, OK, I love you too, V," Matt submitted, and I heard that grin in his voice again.

I laughed in a low, reverberating tone as I slowly turned around to face him and his alluring emerald eyes that glowed incandescently. Nothing else at this moment could be any more ideal.

Matt soon proved me wrong when he sluggishly removed his arms from my waist and placed his gloved hand near his other one.

"Hm, I always wanted to try this—always wanted to know what your skin really felt like. Am I sounding too weird?"

"Maybe," I replied, grinning as I stifled giggles with my hand, "but let's see what you mean by that."

"OK."

He actually pulled off one of his gloves to reveal bare skin underneath. My grin softened into a smile when I predicted that I would feel his hand instead of leather.

Good. Leather seemed like such an overrated material to me. However, I had figured he would hold my hand instead of softly caressing my face. As soon as warm skin brushed my cheek, I blushed.

"Will you ever stop blushing around me?" Matt asked with a smile.

"Some day," I whispered, closing my eyes and feeling his lips kissing mine. This kiss was so much more serious when it came to passion that I smiled slightly and leaned gently into him.

Thus, this concludes my extensive yet admittedly abridged autobiography. Interpret it as you like. I was only revealing my thoughts, my dreams, and my passions—really, only the basic qualities that living life has to offer. Since I'm dead, though, perhaps I should offer a word of wisdom. Cryptic ghosts usually do such things in works of fiction, I suppose. During my narration of my tale, I have attempted and attempted to fabricate such intelligent advice. And the one life lesson that I have come up with is this: don't ever allow life to haunt you. Even when the worst imaginable events can unfold (take it from a nearly full-fledged expert), eventually learn to move on and enjoy life. For, though it might take, it can give tremendously.

So, as a parting farewell, live life to its fullest and never take it for granted.

* * *

**A/N: It's...over. Wow. Well, thanks everyone for your reviewing/favoriting/adding this to story alert! XD I never expected this to be so popular and to have so many reviews. Thanks, thanks, thanks! This story just meant so much to me when writing it, and I'm so glad so many of you enjoyed it, too. Tha--well, I better mention some things before I say "thanks" for the billionth time. XP**

**All of you have made these first two months of me being here (ever since April) very memorable indeed. And, I will be sure to write more Death Note stuff, even if they just might be one-shots. I have other fics on here too, in case you want to read them. I'm a Kingdom Hearts fanatic, so I like writing that stuff. I'll take any requests given (unfortunately, not Bleach, cuz the last time I watched it, I got confuzzled from lack of watching it). So, thanks for the support, everyone! This concludes my rather long author's note. XD**


	26. A What If

**A/N: OK, I know what all of you are thinking. Is she updating DEALTHY? I thought it ended. Well, it did. But, the reason I'm adding on this one-shot here to the completed story is that I thought it would make more sense to be attached to it rather than be its own separate story like "Visits" was. Also, yes, I admit that I "borrowed" this idea from 28 Days Later. If you have not seen that movie, you should. Best zombie flick ever.**

* * *

**A "What If"**

"Matt, no!" I cried out, bursting out of the cherry red Mustang convertible with no regard to what possibly could have happened.

I must have been foolish to ignore his demand to stay in the car. But, bluntly speaking, I didn't give a damn as long as he was safe, as long as the Kira supporters' bullets didn't touch him.

"Wait, hold your fire!" one of them barked out. "I don't know who this girl is!"

By that time, I had thrown myself on top of Matt's body, a bullet grazing my shoulder. I winced but was surprised to see he wasn't bleeding.

For, in fact, the Kira supporters had barely started firing at him before this pause. Oh, thank God. I breathed out a sigh of glorious relief, feeling fortunate that we had this reprieve. Despite the painful bullet that lodged itself deep in my shoulder, I hoped all would be well.

Matt chuckled, yet his eyes glared at me. "V, you crazy bitch. I told you to stay in the car."

"I know but..." My eyes stung from what could have occurred instead. "I didn't want you to die. I love you."

His beautiful, luminous green eyes softened. "I love you, too."

The remaining tenseness in his face (he was surely stressed over protecting me) dissipated, making him appear more angelic. He was so exquisitely beautiful for a man that yes, I could be in such an intense moment as this and still be quite swept away by it. Not to mention this marked the first time he said those three words aloud, even as a reply.

I was ready to be immersed in this comforting warmth when Matt's wiry yet strong arms wrapped around me. Unluckily for me, I'd forgotten about just how severe my shoulder wound was. I bit back a scream.

Matt automatically let go with a concerned expression. "V...What is it? Oh shit...You hurt?"

"It's merely my shoulder, Matt. No need to panic," I assured him in my cool voice of rationale.

All the while, I sensed a light, dizzying sensation in my head. It was as though I saw stars or dots float before my eyes. I had gravely underestimated my injury.

His gloved fingers tentatively touched my right shoulder, which was beginning to dully throb with pain. "Are you kidding? It's a big deal. I know you care about me, V, but I'm not worth your life."

I gritted my teeth in response to this and the horrid agony I was under. "Yes, you bloody are. You don't even know..."

Damn. I felt decidedly faint now, shadows starting to surround me. A purple prose way to say I was heading to blacking out. Out of sorrow, I sighed due to wondering if I would die. My urgent instinct to save Matt from the maniacal, fanatical Kira supporters could not result in my death. I refused to let it end this way.

I saw the fear in his eyes. "V, hold on. Just hold on. Please."

No matter how much he pleaded and no matter how much I attempted to fight my dizziness, I inevitably lost consciousness. Dear God no...

* * *

Deepest black turned into blinding white when I finally opened my eyes. The air had the distinct smell of hospital, one of which wasn't too pleasant, I can assure you. Very slowly, I blinked to ensure my wakefulness and that I was still alive. I breathed evenly enough. It was a miracle that I managed to be taken here without the supporters reopening their fire.

Hopefully, our mission had been accomplished, therefore avenging my brother's death. Though quite honestly, it would truly be so if Light was dead. As much as I usually didn't wish death on anybody...

It was at that moment I glanced Matt sitting in a chair right by my hospital bedside. This endearing image made me smile, touched to the core.

Once he observed that I was awake, he returned my smile with his trademark easygoing grin. He leaned over and touched my cheek.

"Hey, Princess Zelda," he murmured, his warm touch making my heart race.

"Oh, there you go again with your ridiculous nicknames," I feigned scoffing, yet I couldn't resist a giggle.

Now, I could fully relax with him there, the calming force in my life, one of the precious few constants. Was this the man who had been reduced to a fearful boy before I faded out of consciousness? I didn't think this out of disdain (of course not) but of a genuine worry. His fear was my fear. We shared feelings at this stage.

Sure enough, his face turned into that oddly serious expression I rarely ever saw there as he placed his other gloved hand on my face. I knew that he loved me in the truest way anyone could love another. It was sweet and not a big epiphany. The knowledge came gently, as though it decided to take up residence deep in my soul. And my heart.

"I thought I was gonna lose you," Matt whispered. "You really scared the hell out of me, you know. Yeah, just your shoulder, but it was bad. I was relieved when they told me they got the whole bullet out."

When he told me with brutal honesty how precarious my situation had been, I was convinced that I had made too much of a dismissal of being hurt. I was so self-sacrificing to the extent that I cared little about myself and more about him. Good thing that he hadn't a mark on him. However, I swore I saw his eyes well up with tears.

His hands gripped my face slightly. "I don't ever want to lose you. Not because of this case that's been with us everywhere. It would be...a waste...You mean a lot to me. I was so scared when you blacked out...so scared..."

He kissed me passionately on the lips then. He was wonderful.

I felt immense love for him, partially out of gratitude that he'd stayed faithfully near me. After all, he could have easily gone after Mello to help with the plan to herald Kira's downfall. Instead, he remained in hospital with me, which spoke much of his character. He could be comical but noble all at once.

Yet, I didn't wish to see him falling apart in front of me. I would be loath to be the reason for his tears. For, one trailed down his cheek.

"Matt," I said softly, wiping it away. "Come closer. Just hold me."

Matt tentatively settled onto the cot next to me (ah...we'd only shared a bed on a few occasions for strictly sleeping) and wrapped his arms around me.

Cuddling against him, I could feel the ebb and flow of his breathing and the steady beating of his heart. His kind, caring heart that was the purest gem and a good influence on me as a person. When I moved slightly back from him to study his face, I found that he smiled faintly.

"That's more like it." I touched his lips. "I always thought you were handsome, especially with your smile."

My opinion seemed to give him pleasure because he chuckled, shook his head, but blushed all the same. "V, you know how to flatter a guy."

Aw, so modest! It was as though he never thought too much of his appearance, so that probably caused him to adapt that slovenly look. If that disarray was intended to make him look any less handsome, then he failed miserably in my eyes. For, my breath would catch in my throat whenever I saw his disheveled red bangs fall across his green eyes just so. There was something so inexplicably beautiful about it.

No wonder I fell in love with him.

"Well," he muttered, pressing his forehead to mine, "I think you're beautiful. I don't like applying the word 'hot' here. 'Beautiful' fits you."

I was touched until I almost cried. "Really?"

"Yeah." Matt proceeded to carefully remove his gloves, revealing pale, soft hands with suitably long fingers. "Of course. Those big dark eyes, that skin, that dark shiny hair...God, you're amazing."

I knew that it must have been a great indicator of how healthy our relationship was, how attractive we found each other. As it turned out, our admiration for one another was pure. As pure as if we were still young schoolchildren at Wammy's.

I shuddered happily when I felt his warm fingers on my jawline. "Ah, that feels good. This makes this hospital trip almost worth it. Why'd you wait so long?"

"Just was waiting for the right moment," he told me. "I always wanted to touch you without my gloves on. I didn't know _when_ to do it, though. It was almost as big a deal as with the goggles. Remember?"

I giggled from the silly, sweet memory. "How can I forget? It was a perfect evening. With a perfect man."

Smiling softly, Matt kissed me again, only with less needy desperation than before. His lips were longing but gentle, soft, like pillows. His fingers moved up from my jawline and landed lightly on my cheeks.

They rubbed circles against my skin, and I found that my back arched slightly to his touch, which seemed to ignite something each time I felt it. My own lips twitched into a peaceful smile while we kissed. Then, reluctantly, we stopped.

"So, how long was I out?" I inquired curiously, wondering how bad it had been. After all, I could only imagine the pain I'd unintentionally put Matt through.

He grinned wanly. "It's five o'clock in the evening now."

Oh, wow. Not good. Nearly twelve hours or so. I looked him in the eyes, noting that they were bleary and a bit bloodshot.

Concerned regarding the condition of his eyes and his deviance from his two usual habits (smoking, which wouldn't be allowed in here anyway, and video game playing), I cradled his smooth cheek in my hand.

"I'm sorry for giving you so much trouble. For ultimately being the burden I certainly didn't want to be."

One of his hands lowered and grasped mine. "Don't worry about it. I'm normally not an emotional guy, but I care about you, you know? You're my girl, and you're worth a lot of trouble. And you being a burden? Not hardly. V, I'm always going to be here for you. I'm not leaving."

I let out a shaky, emotionally charged sigh as I nuzzled my head against his shoulder.

Not too many people find their true love early in life. I was so fortunate to meet mine after digging up his missing Nintendo 64 cartridge. What was more, Matt had proven himself as an incredible boyfriend whose heart was near golden. He loved me full-heartedly, and with the solemn way he professed his devotion at this moment, I knew it would be the forever kind. He made me whole...not to be cliché.

"I'll never leave you," I promised, my eyes filling up. "I don't want to."

In spite of the slightly uncomfortable medical bandage on my shoulder, I curled my body close to his. After this day, the day where Kiyomi Takada's bodyguards almost killed us, I learned just how grateful I was to have Mail Jeevas in my life. And also how much I loved him, completely, hopelessly adored him.

"I'm glad you don't. Because I wanna stay with you for a long time. You're stuck with me whether you like it or not, V," he declared with a Cheshire Cat grin and a short chuckle.

"What if they try to kick you out when visiting hours are over?"

He winked. "Screw them. I'll tell 'em I'm holding you hostage."

Of course, this made me laugh.

* * *

We found out that Mello managed to survive our mission too, though that had hung by a vicarious thread. He later told us, shortly after I'd been released from hospital, that a gut instinct saved him. A premonition of sorts that his mercy toward Takada would cost him.

As much as he wished greedily to steal the glory from Near and take Yagami down, he hesitantly resolved to escape while he still could. He couldn't risk his life any more times that day, especially what he discovered while cruising by an electronics store. It was all over the news that Takada's bodyguards attempted shooting at us.

Alleviation lifted a weight off me when I was told our true names weren't revealed. Of course not. We were only known in the media as a "young man and young woman", ironically touted as the Japanese Bonnie and Clyde. This tickled Matt's fancy.

"Hm...Next up, we should rob a bank." He smirked.

I hit him upside the head. "Shut your trap, Matt. We just barely got out of trouble. How soon we forget, eh?"

He affectionately ruffled my hair. "Just joking. And I remember."

There had been that mature pensiveness in his eyes at the likely thought that I could have died. Mello went on to inform us that for certain, Light was dead. Near had contacted him to give that news...

"And that bastard, I swear, was all smug about it." Our blond friend rolled his eyes. "Even though it's not like he killed him. That Matsuda idiot was apparently the one who shot the shi—"

"He's not an idiot, and I say good for him!" I cut in staunchly, sticking up for my old colleague. He did have his shining moment then.

"Yeah, I gotta agree with V on that one." Matt grinned. "I would give kudos to anybody who took Kira down. Even Near."

Mello frowned. "You're a great friend, Matt. A _real _pal."

"Oh, get over it, Mello. You were always too impulsive."

I attempted to stifle my laughter, but I ended up letting it out anyway.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noted that Matt's eyes softened before he joined in. Mello smirked but still had his arms firmly crossed. Overall, though, we could all breathe that collective sigh of relief now that Light died. No more would there be a Kira justifying his senseless killings.

I figured that L smiled on that day, a wry quirk to his lips and pleased that his murderer was taken out of the global picture. For the first time in a long time, the three of us could be at ease. No more frenzied Kira worshippers would try to annihilate us either. It felt almost eerie that we were so safe.

In a bittersweet way, however, we no longer lived together. Mello chose to settle in LA, loving the laid-back lifestyle and the world of tattoos, large crowds, and fast motorcycles. Of course. Once I reflected on it, that particular city suited him so well.

Matt and I, after some deliberating, stayed in Tokyo since he wished to pursue video game testing. We compromised that maybe after two or so years there, we would return to England. As much as I loved the sights and sounds of populous Tokyo, I'd always ached for my home.

The next two years did pass in this manner, with the two of us in our blossoming, happy boyfriend/girlfriend relationship. Matt would earn enough money to get by, and thanks to L's will, I was practically set for life. Obviously, we didn't want to live totally off my funds.

I mentioned something about being a burden again, but God bless him, he assured me that I was worth it. No matter what.

* * *

A few, short days before my twenty-second birthday, Matt suggested that we return to Winchester, to see how the orphans fared. I jumped at the opportunity and agreed. When we got there on June 10th, we didn't go to the small town right away but explored London again.

We went window shopping despite Matt's blatant reluctance to do so, and we passed a jewelry store. A 10-karat diamond ring surrounded by sapphires caught my eye. Shaking my head at my folly, I moved on, glancing over at Matt.

He stood on the sidewalk, pretending to be a mannequin, all stiff and expressionless. I giggled, jokingly called him a tosser, and dragged him away.

On the 12th, we visited the orphans, also being hailed as heroes by all the admiring little ones. And this batch was indeed young! Their precociousness caused them not to look at me, the sister of world-renowned L Lawliet, as an object of envy. Rather, they admired me not only for my blood but also for the fact I'd played a role in bringing down a loathed villain. Those children flocked around Matt and me, wanting the whole story.

"Not G-rated, kids, so it ain't a good idea," my boyfriend told them.

"Exactly, we'd hate to make you all cry," I gently teased.

Thus, finally, I had been accepted at Wammy's House, the orphanage where I'd been constantly rejected on a daily basis. As for my boyfriend, he received more admiration from the residents than he ever had before.

When we waved goodbye to the kids, a few of them gave us hugs. A maternal instinct was brought out in me then, causing me to wonder if I could be a good mother. Maybe...

Matt looked at me fondly when he noticed me enfolding my arms around some of the kids. Every glance he bestowed to me, every tender smile, could make my heart skip a beat. For nostalgia's sake, we decided to take a walk on the grounds. It was early evening by that time, around fifteen minutes til five.

We spoke about how much Wammy's had changed yet what stayed the same. Roger, the old codger, remained head of the place. He'd been at the door when we initially arrived, staring at us in his usual condescendence.

What to do for a replacement...That would be a decision for me to reach, since L was connected the most to Watari. Quillish Wammy. At the very least, despite Roger ("Roger the Codger", the children agreed with me), the orphans were still gifted, still genius. There would be no shortage of detectives in the world. Or no shortage of artists.

When I remarked upon this, Matt said, "Well, you should go back to your music."

The piano...Was it still up there, in my old dormitory? I had never ventured to ask or to search for it. I bit my lip in thought.

He then clasped my hand in both his gloved ones. "You're a really good singer, V. A great piano player. Your voice is beautiful, too. You should use your talent, show it off, you know?"

I blushed shyly. "Perhaps...If people are more receptive to it than the children were at Wammy's. I can recall their glares. They silently said, 'Oh, shut up'."

"Hung up on that still?" One of his eyebrows was raised.

A bit perplexed that we even remotely discussed this, I murmured, "Come now, Matt, if music had been your passion, then these brats decided that your singing shouldn't be heard in class, it's safe to—"

Quite abruptly, Matt pulled me down to lay next to him on the crisp green grass, a playful glint in his eye. I was startled and had to recover from the _thumpthumpthump _of my rapidly beating heart.

"Sing for me, V," he whispered half-seductively, half-earnestly. "I haven't heard you sing in forever. Please?"

I took a deep breath and then, "'Hey Jude, don't make it bad. Take a sad song and make it better'..."

Admittedly, the very first song I could think of. I knew a ton more Beatles songs than that, but this was the one I'd heard on classic rock radio last. While I softly sang, I observed Matt closing his eyes, calmly enjoying the moment. A loving smile played on his lips.

"I would love to marry someone with a voice like that," he confided in a seemingly idle way. As though those words meant nothing, just hollow.

My eyes dilated immensely, the singing stopped. "What?"

His arms encircled me as he murmured, "Marry me. I can't wait ten damn years, I changed my mind about that. I'm so in love with you, hell, it hurts."

I couldn't...I could barely process...Was he being serious? I studied his eyes vigorously, seeing in them an optimistic glimmer. A confident grin showed through on his face. I swore the Death Note was still in existence, because I assumed a heart attack struck me.

Matt caressed my face as he continued, "I want you to stay with me for a long time. So you can cook my dinner, wash the dishes, do my laundry..."

I laughed, a sound of utter joy. "How tempting."

"But, seriously"—his grin faded—"I love you, and I want to be with you. We were meant for each other, V. You and me forever. What do you say?"

He almost appeared unsure then, because he hadn't heard a proper response from me yet. A lump of emotion obstructed my throat, and I felt the happy tears rising.

"Yes," I whispered, grabbing a hold of his neck. "Of course, a million times, yes. I'm so...I'm so bloody happy right now, I can scarce contain myself."

Running a hand through my hair, he told me, "I haven't even gotten to the best part yet. I got something for you."

He sat up, rummaged around in a vest pocket, and procured a small velvet box.

What was inside, though, surely could not be that one specific...But, it was! There it rested in the silk interior, the exquisitely cut 10-karat ring with the size diamond and the smaller sapphire insets close by.

"Oh my God..." The tears streamed down my face. "How did—?"

"I saw you looking at it right before you looked at me. So, I had to fake being a mannequin to not seem a bit...ah, I don't know...suspicious."

I practically hurled myself upon him, nearly tackling him back down to the ground in the process. This was unarguably the most worthwhile birthday of my life.

"Then, you surely must know I wanted to get married as well," I whispered in his ear.

"Yeah, and you acted like you thought _I _didn't want to." He chuckled dryly. "But, I'd never go off on you. I can be committed. There's no one else for me out there. I'm too lazy to go out searching anyway. It's you."

Very undignified, with us being sprawled out on the grass, we kissed so passionately, so fervently, that it probably put all our other kisses to shame. Entranced by each other, we held on to each other tenderly. I managed to remove his goggles, for I wanted this moment to be special. Well, ten times more than it was already.

Sure enough, I could clearly see a light that danced in his sparkling emerald eyes.

* * *

The wedding was quite simple with Mello both serving as best man _and _the one to give me away. It was all so hilarious that the two of us, happy to be married indoors (in Wammy's, of course), we could barely stop laughing.

Very unorthodox, but Matt did slap on a handsome tuxedo and me an elegant white gown. Our minister came in the form of a man Mello brought in from LA ("Sometimes, you never know that your neighbor got ordained online til you ask," the blond pointed out).

Oh, so delightfully funny, and yet I couldn't help but feel it summed us up well. We were always ones to deviate from the normal since, quite frankly, there'd never been the true existence of that word for us. Any of us.

Shortly after the quickie ceremony, one orphan named Daryl led us to a tent outside that managed to get Roger the Codger's seal of approval. Apparently, he went out of his way to do one nice thing for us. So, fortunately, there was a fun reception that followed with some interesting song choices. Selected by the orphans, of course, though Matt had picked out two.

"Dear Prudence", dedicated to me. That gesture was so romantic that I tried in vain not to cry. As for the song we danced to, he chose "Wonderful Tonight" by Eric Clapton. Who knew that my husband could have such a sappy yet romantic side?

Mello didn't partake much in the festivities, only standing in the background with the closest thing to a smile on his face. His two best friends married. Oh, how much we'd all grown up!

At one point, when we stopped to talk to him, Matt declared, "It's not official yet, man, but you're going to be the godfather of Matt Jr.!"

"Looking forward to it." The chocoholic only smirked complacently.

When we heard "Space Oddity" coming on just then, we burst out laughing. Oh, those orphans, and their obscure setlist.

And later that night, when all the excitement had died down, the two of us made love for the first time. Initially, I was skeptical of this occurring. What if it hurt too much?

But, no, this was with the man I loved. It resulted in something beautiful, precious beyond anything I'd ever imagined. I can't even describe it in a word somewhat crass-sounding like "sex." It was that perfect, a true love consummated and fully realized. I would forever remember it, I vowed to myself.

* * *

The years have passed in our lovely home that's twenty minutes outside of London in an idyllic suburb. I am now a thirty-two-year-old married mother. For, I doubt Matt and I would ever divorce, unlike other couples.

However, our home life is the one thing normal about us. Matt legally changed his name to Matt Jeevas a year after we got married.

"I mean, my parents called me 'Mail'," he grimaced in disgust. "I guess they didn't expect too much out of me. Oh, I'd be so stupid that the best I'd do is mailman. No thanks. I mean, that's what they thought, right? I was going to deliver mail rain or shine?"

"If you say so, Matt." I giggled. "Though, I was thinking it could have been something infinitely worse."

He appeared confused before his eyes widened in realization. "V...V, what if I came from the mailman? Oh God...OK, sometimes, I think things are better left the way they are. Like, really, I'm really thankful that I ended up in the orphanage. I really am. Ugh...God!"

As tasteless as this was, I wound up laughing hysterically at his overly panicked, OCD-ridden reaction.

And then, two days before our second anniversary, I gave birth to twins. Many twos associated with that. Yes, September 7th, one of the best days of my life.

Our children were fraternal twins (with their father's red hair and their mother's extremely dark eyes—only, they had eyebrows), and we named them Lydia for my mother and Paul, simply for the sake to name our son after a Beatle, admittedly.

They're nine years old now and the sweetest kids. As their mother, I'm so proud of them. Lydia is a creative force to be reckoned with, for she's learning to play guitar already. Paul, on the other hand, is a bit rambunctious but has written thoughtful poems.

So, are they considered geniuses in the technical sense? No, but I can tell they'll be gifted in some way. I enjoy my job of being a mother, even if I'm the disciplinarian parent. Oh, Matt, he's too lazy to punish anybody.

I ended up pursuing my dream of being a musician partially due to his encouragement, partially due to my ardent desire. When I did get around to releasing an album, it was called _The Wammy House Years_ in homage to my orphanage. It comprised of all the songs I'd written as a teenager. One single, "My Redhaired Boy" (you surely don't need to guess whom that was about), charted to #3 on the UK charts and #1 on the American Billboard Adult Contemporary charts.

Critics, not that I would have cared what they thought, compared me to the likes of Norah Jones and Sarah McLachlan. I, being modest, doubted them a bit but gracefully accepted the praise.

I actually got nominated for a Grammy for Best New Artist but lost out to some trash hip-hop group that released a song about...oh, I don't remember. Some violence rubbish, I know that. Oh well, like they all say, it was an honor to be nominated.

Between you and me, though, the Grammies have increasingly become a joke of an institution.

I go out on tour sporadically these days, for I do have a family to care for. That, I will tell you, is my most monumental role. Is this the pleasantly ideal life that my brother L wished for me? I dearly hope so, for I can't think of anything more perfect than this.

When Matt comes home in the evening from video game _designing_, I still kiss him on the lips. That action has never gotten old for me.

However, even he has changed in some respects. Prepare yourself for a terrible shock, but he quit smoking. For the kids. He felt like they didn't deserve being exposed to his secondhand smoke. He's also ditched the goggles, wearing them once in a blue moon. It's nice to see those eyes unobstructed.

Tonight, he comes home with his bright smile intact. "V, how you doing?"

"Amazing, now that you're here," I half-flirt, eyes hooded purposely.

He never asks if dinner's ready. He doesn't carry bad days at work (if he has any) home with him. Bless him that he isn't like most husbands. He's never been like most men.

Suddenly, Lydia throws her arms around him. "Hi, Daddy! Did you make a cool game today?"

He chuckles, hugging her back. "I'm always making cool games, Lyds. You know, you can go to college for that."

That's what he did. Matt is preparing himself to win "Father of the Year", I swear. Such a great role model these days...

Paul then comes in the living room. "Hey, Dad. I lost dodgeball today."

In dry humorous, mock sorrow, Matt clicks his tongue. "Well, you didn't get any athletics from your old man, that's for sure."

"You can chat your dad's ear off all you want later," I tell them both, "but it's time for dinner now. Go to the kitchen and set the table."

Our kids oblige, and my husband takes this time to kiss me sweetly. I always feel like a teenager again when he does that.

When he breaks the kiss, he ruffles my hair. "I always miss you at work, you know."

"I sure hope so." I smile. "Love you, hon."

"Love you too...Princess Zelda."

I grin. "I'm glad, Link."

Some things in life will never change. Some things in life will stay the same but never be unnerving in that static state. There will always be simply life. Simply love. Simply happiness. Simply anything and everything.

And I'm simply me, Mrs. Victoria Jeevas, but forever just V.

* * *

**A/N: Yep, you're right. This would have been the alternative ending if I'd let everyone live. If I hadn't been so keen on doing that L's ghost POV chapter, though, I would have let V, Matt, and Mello live. Yep, you can beat me up now. XD Initially, I wasn't even going to bother putting this up. But, I feel like those of you who read it deserve to know what the happy ending would have been. Happier ending at any rate.**


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